Lost in Mist
by MeZaKi93
Summary: A young historian asks Edward to tell him about World War II on Sodor. I do not own TTTE characters. The story may not correspond with events in the Railway Series or television series.
1. Chapter 1

Lost in Mist I.

Bridget Hatt sighed in relief when the students stood up to leave the classroom. She had worked and taught historiography at the University of Knapford for at least forty years and she was among the rare few who truly enjoyed it. She spoke four ancient languages, Latin, ancient Greek and Egyptian as well as ancient Sudrian as that was her favourite era - and the other one, an inevitable influence of her family's role in the Sudrian railways' history, was the industrial revolution. Bridget loved history with all her heart and after finishing her dissertation, she could travel to museums all over the world, though she eventually returned to Sodor and started researching Sudrian history while she accepted the role to teach as well.

However, Bridget Hatt was an elderly woman now, she had just turned seventy earlier that month, and she was beginning to feel it. It was not that she had grown bored of her job, but having to deal with the ever more independent youth had begun to take its toll on her. She felt herself growing slower and more tired over the years and she was seriously considering resigning to go back to her hieroglyphs and codexes. She couldn't deny anymore that she had become old and was relieved every time she announced to the class that the lesson had ended.

Today was no different. While waiting for the last student to leave the room, Bridget walked up to the window to take a look at the outside word. Pure white puffs of steam could be seen behind the buildings and trees where she knew the Knapford Station ended; an engine, probably Gordon with the express, was preparing for another journey. She could almost hear the buzzing and chatter of people along with the constant clatter and puffing of the steam engines as they came and went, and it brought a smile to her wrinkled face. The station of the capital was always full of life, full of stories to tell. Bridget thought about visiting her nephew in his office - she had two free hours - or just to go there to see the people and engines when someone interrupted her thoughts.

"Erm... excuse me, madame."

Bridget turned around to see one of her students, Anthony Raves standing before her. Anthony was studying for his master's degree and was one of the more enthusiastic people there. He was a tall man in his mid-twenties and there was a small smile on his handsome face.

"Yes, Anthony?"

"I would like to ask for something." he began "I'm writing my thesis, and, as you know, it's about World War II."

"Yes, I know." Bridget chuckled gently "I know that is your favourite era. You told me about it."

Anthony nodded with a small blush before he continued, "I'd like to write it from different perspectives and about its effects on the British Isles. I searched the internet, read books and visited museums, but I thought... you could help me better. You specialize in ancient and modern history, and... I would like to ask you, madame, if you could help me. Maybe recommend a good book or a library I could get help from?"

Bridget thought for a moment. Of course, she had many books either written by herself, from other historians or witnesses from the war - after all, she herself was born during the war. She put on her coat and picked up her notes to leave the room with Anthony following her.

"Well," professor Hatt began "I have books and notes I myself made from the tales of those who had lived through the war. You know, Anthony, my father served in the army, too, before he was called back home to manage the North Western Railway here. These are valuable documents, but I can lend you some, if you need them for your thesis."

At that moment, she stopped in the middle of the stairs. Anthony stopped as well and looked at her with worry in his eyes. "Madame?" he asked, "Is everything alright?"

Bridget smiled at his student before she continued walking.

"Oh, yes." she said gently "I'm fine. I just had an idea. Will you have any more lessons?"

"No, I have two hours till the next one."

"Good." Bridget continued smiling, which started to frighten Anthony. Bridget Hatt may have been old, but one would never know what she was up to. "Then, would you like to come with me to visit my nephew?"

Anthony's eyes widened. "Sir Richard Hatt?" he asked doubtfully "The director of the railway?"

"The one and only." Bridget laughed and Anthony had to smile, too. Ever since he came to Knapford to study, he had known Bridget Hatt as a cheerful woman with a good sense of humor, but recently, she smiled less and less. Anthony could imagine she was getting tired of the busy university life with all the students, arranging lectures and seminars to keep everything in order, and it was relieving to see her smile again. However, it was not relieving to think of what she had in store for him, though by the time they got outside, Anthony had a guess what she was getting at.

"I have quite a lot of friends on the railways, thanks to my father." the old woman continued as they walked slowly out of the campus "And I know someone who could help you even more than I can. If you want to hear things from a first-hand witness who lived through both world wars, then I know just the person who can tell you. Yes, you must meet him."

"_Both_ world wars?" Anthony asked in surprise "Then... I guess it's not a human being you are talking about."

Bridget Hatt smiled, her old, brown eyes sparkled, "Of course not." she said as they stopped at the local bus stop "Only the engines lived through them. And even among them, there are few who witnessed both, and even fewer who were serving on our railway at the time. In fact, only two engines lived through both world wars on the North Western Railway. One of them had been here even earlier, even before the railway existed as it does today. And you said you wanted to write it from different perspectives; why not the perspective of a steam engine? Here's the local bus that goes to the railway station."

The bus, a modern-looking, light blue vehicle came up to them with a toot of his horn and a bright smile on his greyish face.

"Good morning, dr. Hatt." he greeted the old professor; his voice had a deep, rich tone that boomed gently when he asked the woman, "How are you today?"

"Quite fine, thank you, Eric." smiled the elderly lady and they got up.

The ride to the Main Station was fairly quick even with all the stops they had to take to let off and pick up passengers. As they left the bus, Bridget walked in front of him with a smile on her face. "It was a really nice ride, Eric." she said with a playful spark in her eyes, "Do you ever make mistakes?"

Eric chuckled, it sent a small shudder down his frame. "Never, madame." With that, he closed his doors, "Have a nice day!" and rolled away to continue his rides along the city.

The distinct smell of steam could be felt even outside the station as the two made their way towards it. The gentle humming of the machines, soft whooshes of steam and smoke rising from the cylinders of the engines and the rythmic pumping and puffing of their pistons gave the place an almost musical background among the twittering of people. The station was old and new at the same time; people were here and there, talking on their mobile phones, surfing the internet on their iPads or laptops or listening to music as they waited for their train to come while a soft veil of steam lingered at their feet. The station building itself was clean, but wasn't modern in any way - it fit perfectly with an era where steam engines were the sole rulers of the railways. One just couldn't help feeling like he had travelled back in time, and that was exactly how Anthony felt.

Anthony wasn't a native of Knapford and he travelled back home to see his parents and siblings in Toryreck whenever he could, but he mostly travelled by bus. He hadn't travelled by train ever since he was a pre-teen, but he still had memories of the engines he saw then. Of course, almost everyone knew the railway's engines, it was them that made the Island of Sodor famous in the first place. They were the main attractions of the island, not just because they were steam locomotives, but because of their stories and what they represented. They were all persons with their own characteristics and biographies and that made their value equal to those great, almost legendary steam engines who nowadays reside at the National Railway Museum. Of course, there were other heritage railways where steam was still in use, but none as complex or famous as the Sudrian railways. Anthony knew that. And he knew Bridget was right - if someone, then one of these engines could surely help to give an insight to those long gone years of Sodor and Britain.

Bridget Hatt's face seemed to brighten more and more as they stepped onto the platform just outside the station offices. There were three engines standing among the platforms at the time, talking to the passengers or their crews, discussing the last details of their upcoming journey with the drivers so that everything would go smoothly. The closest to them was a bright red Hughes Class engine with the number 5 on the side of his tender whom Anthony knew as James - he was part of the famous Steam Team, the eight core engines of the North Western Railway. He had two coaches that were now full and closed and when the stationmaster blew his whistle, James pumped his pistons and let off steam in preparation, and after a few quick, experimental rolls of his side rods, he took off to his journey and left the station. The two remaining engines there were No.1 Thomas, flagship of the railway and another, less known engine, No.10 Douglas. They both blew their whistles when they saw Bridget Hatt, the woman waved back to them with a warm smile on her face; and the two old engines' smiles to her were just as warm.

"Anthony?"

The young man snapped back to reality when he heard his professor's voice next to him. "Sorry, madame." he stuttered, embarrassed when he noticed he was starring at the two steamies talking to each other at the other side of the station.

"I asked the stationmaster if Richard is here. He can recieve us now, so let's go."

Anthony's heart was beating fast as he followed Bridget inside and up the stairs. Aside the people working on the railway, few had met Sir Richard Topham Hatt face-to-face. It wasn't because the man isolated himself - sure, he worked long hours in his office, but he always had time to come out, visit and talk to his workers; mostly the engines.

It seemed as if the joy of life returned to the old, tired teacher. Bridget Hatt's face shone with a smile and she climbed the stars with relative ease that even a youngster could have envied, though she was panting and red in the face by the time they reached the first floor. Fortunately, they did not have to climb any more, Sir Richard's office was right there at the and of the hallway.

However, Anthony couldn't help himself and had to ask Bridget,

"Madame, are you sure we won't bother the director?"

The elderly woman smiled at him. "I am welcome here." she said, "And we won't be here for long. We only need to ask him a question, then you can go if you want."

With that, she knocked on the door and a moment later the director opened it.

Richard Hatt, great-grandson of the railway's first director, was a tall, middle-aged man and the first thing Anthony noticed was his chocolate brown eyes that sparkled in the same way as Bridget's; when he saw his aunt, the baronet smiled brightly and closed her in a loving embrace.

"Auntie," he said "it's good to see you. Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, yes." Bridget gestured to Anthony to come closer. "This is my student, Anthony Raves."

"Nice to meet you, sir." the young historian said as he shook hands with the railway's director and Sodor's baronet.

"Nice to meet you, too, mr. Raves." Richard Hatt nodded politely with a smile. "So, what can I do for you?"

"I..." Anthony looked at Bridget who nodded reassuringly "I'm writing a thesis, sir, about the second World War in Great-Britain, and dr. Hatt told me that maybe... I could find help here on the railway."

After hearing this, Sir Richard looked at his aunt with a knowing look and a smile just as mysterious as hers, "So you wanted to ask where you can find Edward?"

"Exactly." Bridget nodded. "He's a good storyteller, only Salty is better than him, but he wasn't here during the those times. Is he free now?"

Without further questions, the director went back to his desk and picked up a long and complicated timetable. He searched for a while, but eventually found what he was looking for. "Yes, Edward." he murmured and looked up, "He had to take a goods train to Tidmouth, he must have arrived by now. He has one more hour before his next job, so I assume he must be resting at the Tidmouth Sheds. I'm sure you can find him there."

Anthony smiled. "Thank you, sir."

"We'll ask an engine if he could take you to Tidmouth." said Bridget before turning back to her nephew, "Thank you, Richard."

"Not at all." he shook hands with Anthony and hugged Bridget. "Will you come back?"

"Of course." the old woman smiled and they both left the office.

Thomas and Douglas were still at the station, both of them already in steam to be ready when they had to go, though only Douglas had coaches coupled to him. It was a rare sight; Douglas and his twin, Donald were goods engines, they almost never pulled passenger trains. As Bridget and Anthony made their way to them, the stationmaster blew his whistle that signalled the departure of the train and, after a few quick, harder pumps of his pistons, Douglas started rolling out of the station with a steadily accelerating pace. Only Thomas remained there and he smiled when he saw the two humans walk up to him.

"Good morning, dr. Hatt." he greeted Bridget. Anthony wasn't surprised by that; everyone addressed her as 'dr.', the title 'Lady Hatt' always went to the wife of the current baronet and director of the railway. However, he was bewildered when the small tank engine turned his eyes to him and greeted him as well, "Good morning, sir."

Anthony blushed a little, he had never been called 'sir' before and he rarely talked to the vehicles and locomotives, it was still strange to him. However, Bridget smiled warmly at her old friend.

"Hello, Thomas." she said, "Do you know if Edward is still at Tidmouth?"

"Yes, he's there." Thomas answered, "He told me he would stay there a little before he goes to Suddery."

"Good." Bridget nodded, "Could you take this young man to Tidmouth? He would like to meet Edward."

Thomas looked at Anthony and smiled. "Gladly." he said. "I still have some time until my next train. You can ride in my cab. The way to Tidmouth is not too long."

Anthony starred at the blue E2 Class steam engine. He knew the stories that were told about the cheeky little tank engine's adventures, but he was no longer that young and naive child; his eyes and face still carried that youthful and confident shine in them, but his voice was now a mature tenor, vibrating with experience and the decades had left their mark on his features. He did not look _old_, but not young either. Really, how old was he? Eighty? Ninety? Anthony knew that he and Edward were the first engines when the North Western Railway was completed, thus the number 1 on his side tanks, but Thomas was not at all the oldest engine on the railway. Edward was older than him and was there before him, he helped to build the railway, at least that was what Anthony heard. But why was Edward just Number 2 then? What had made him give his place away?

Thomas' driver came out and invited Anthony inside Thomas' cab and the student climbed up. He was now getting excited with all the questions that came to his mind as he recalled the stories he was told about these engines and he was eager to know the answers - he just hoped that Edward would really be willing to share his story with him. Bridget did not go with him this time, she remained standing next to Thomas and smiled up at him one last time.

"I have to go now." she said and she raised her hand to stroke the engine's grey face lightly, bringing a bright smile to said face. "Don't take it too hard, will you?"

Thomas, mature or not, flashed his famous cheeky smile as he felt steam fill his cylinders. "What makes you think I would?"

"Oh, I have no idea." Bridget laughed and backed away to let Thomas go. The little steamy tooted his whistle and with a whoosh of steam, he was out of the station.

The journey really wasn't long at all and Thomas kept a smooth and steady pace throughout it. White, healthy puffs of smoke left his funnel in rhythm with the pumping of his pistons. His driver kept a hand on his throttle and did little to direct Thomas - he even joked that these engines could manage without drivers on their own. Anthony smiled a little; of course, it wasn't true, but Thomas really made it seem like it was. He had travelled these lines for long decades, he really didn't need guidance as to where to go. He seemed so carefree, and his crew were relaxed as well. His fireman sometimes shovelled coal into his firebox, it burnt nicely and his gauges stood at satisfying levels. Sometimes his driver - a middle-aged man named Jim - shouted out to him to ask him if everything was alright and clear and Thomas would answer that it was; Anthony couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't given a chance to get to know these locos more closely earlier. They really had something to tell.

At last they entered the outskirts of a city, Tidmouth, and stopped at a big, white shed. There was a turntable in front of the roundhouse and seven berths opened from it with rails leading to each - that was where the engines rested and slept. Thomas stopped on the turntable and let off steam. "We are here, sir." he announced to Anthony.

Anthony thanked the ride and said goodbye to Thomas' crew as he hopped down from the engine's cab. He walked ahead to see the small locomotive's face and Thomas smiled down at him.

"Thank you for the ride." Anthony said.

"You're welcome." came the answer. "Edward is right there at the 1st Berth. I have to go back now. Have a nice day!"

Anthony walked out of the turntable as Thomas was turned back to the opposite direction, and with a blow of his whistle and whoosh of steam, he left the sheds and went back to his work. Anthony turned around as well; the sheds were clean except for the black lines above each door where the engines passed as they entered and left their resting place, the steam and smoke they expelled made it sooty. There was only one engine at the sheds, right where Thomas told him.

Edward.

His class, the K2 were referred to as "Larger Seagull" by some. They worked on the Furness Railway along the south-west coast of Cumbria, and that was also where Edward came from. By nowadays, he was the last of his kind. The North Western Railway was connected to the Mainland at Vicarstown through the Walney Channel which led to Barrow-in-Furness, but that did not exist at the time Edward came to the island - in fact, the North Western Railway itself didn't exist back then. Edward was one of the engines who helped build it, that much Anthony knew, and he was the oldest locomotive of the railway. He was a real classic and Anthony took a deep breath before he walked up to the ancient steam engine.

Edward noticed him earlier when Thomas arrived with him; he had just managed to doze off when they arrived, but looked down curiously at the young student. Anthony expected a much older-looking engine - sure, Edward did not look as young as Thomas, but apart from a few small wrinkles at the side of his eyes and mouth, his face didn't look like that of an elderly man. Maybe all engines were like that, but it was his eyes that showed his true age. Those eyes were full of wisdom, hardened and softened by the eras he had lived through, eyes that had seen many things throughout the years and held their secret enclosed in them. Anthony also noticed that Edward's eyes weren't a pure brown colour like Thomas' or the other engines' he saw back at Knapford - his was a dirty mix of brown and green, neither and both at the same time, but they sparkled nevertheless as they looked down upon Anthony and shone with the kind smile the old engine gave him.

"Good morning, young man." Edward greeted him. "Who are you?"

His voice wasn't tired or raspy like Anthony expected, it was deep and tender that reminded Anthony of his father. He blushed a little when Edward addressed him, but answered with all the confidence he had.

"I'm Anthony Raves, sir." he stuttered.

"Sir?" Edward chuckled lightly, "There's no need to call me that. I'm just an engine. My name is Edward. What can I do for you?"

Everyone on the Island of Sodor knew who Edward was, but he was polite; Anthony collected himself and went forward with his request.

"I'm... I study history at the University of Knapford, and I'm writing my thesis for my master's degree. A... friend of mine told me that maybe you could help me with that..."

To Anthony's surprise, Edward laughed. It was as if the idea amused him. "Bridget sent you here?" he finally asked, the remains of laughter still brightened his face.

"Actually, yes." Anthony replied, blushing a little. "So, I guess I'm not the first one to come to you."

"That devilish woman..." Edward said to himself with a smile. "Two months ago, a young woman came up to me to ask if I could tell her about the times before the North Western Railway was completed. She was writing about the Sudrian railways before World War I, and I came in handy because I worked on the Wellsworth and Suddery Railway before we built the NWR. She told me that Bridget sent her to ask me about the old railways before they were merged into this. Are you here for the same reason?"

"No, not exactly." Anthony said and cleared his throat. "I wanted to ask you... if you could tell me about the years of the... World War II."

Anthony watched Edward's face; the old engine didn't wince, but his smile turned sad and serious.

"I'm afraid," he began and Anthony's heart sank "this time I cannot help with that. After all, most of the war had taken place on the continent. Apart from the air raids, not much happened here on the Isles. I don't have much to tell."

Anthony listened to him with rapidly beating heart. A part of him expected this answer, but he didn't want to accept it. His interest was sparked now and he wanted to hear whatever this engine had to tell.

"That... that doesn't matter." he said "I want to write about its effects on Great-Britain and I could use every information I can get. Even if it's not much. And I'm writing it from different perspectives as well. There's hardly anything in the documents about the events on Sodor and... I'm a historian, so it would be great to work with a witness."

Edward listened without a word and did not say anything for a while. Anthony hoped he didn't say anything wrong and that he would manage to persuade Edward to tell him his story. It was like the old engine was considering things before he spoke quietly, "It had been many decades ago. What if I don't remember clearly?"

Anthony thought Edward was testing him, his determination, but he wanted to show him that he was serious about his question. He shrugged and said, "Well, it must have been a mess. The accounts of witnesses show that it was a complicated era with different experiences that may or may not be remembered correctly."

Edward chuckled absently. "Just like hearing Bridget..." he said to himself quietly before turning back to Anthony. "But you were right. It was a complicated era. Those were... different times. Most of the engines you see here today weren't on the railway back then. It was even before Toby, the No.7 engine of the railway arrived here. The Steam Team consisted of only six members and there were... different ones. Engines people don't remember anymore."

The blue K2 became silent once again and Anthony didn't dare say anything. Nothing could be seen on Edward's face, but after a while he looked at Anthony and it seemed the sparkle had returned to his eyes. "Did you know that I was once the leader of this railway?"

Anthony's eyes widened in surprise. From what he heard about him and from what he just saw, this engine didn't seem the type who would want to be something like that. And why him? What had happened to the director?

"No, I didn't." Anthony replied quietly. "But what happened then? Why did you decide to stay back while the other engines gained more attention? And... why are you just Number 2 if you were here earlier than Thomas?"

Edward smiled again, but this time, the smile was old and lenient like that of a grandfather's. "I never liked being in the spotlight. No one would know about my leadership because I didn't tell anyone. Only my friends know who were here at the time. And before that, I was part of the Sudrian Railway Council along with Skarloey, another engine, at the time of Sir Phineas Hatt, the first director. And the reason Thomas is the No.1 engine of this railway is another story. In fact, he was the first engine who arrived here, just after we completed the North Western Railway. Sir Phineas Hatt at first didn't want to renumber the engines who previously worked on the completion of the NWR and so Thomas become Number One on the new railway. But since the director decided to keep only me from the originals... he asked me if I wanted to be number 1, but I refused. Thomas is doing a better job being the flagship of this railway. The kid learnt his place."

The elder locomotive went silent again and his gaze became distant. It seemed as if he was just talking to himself when he started speaking again in a soft, quiet voice. "Why not? Even the memory can't hurt now..." he then turned his eyes back to the waiting student before he continued, "But not here and not now. Come to the Knapford Station tomorrow, I'll meet you there if you still want to hear my story. I have to go back to work now, and I assume you still have lessons."

Anthony snapped back to reality and nodded. "Yes, I have. Erm..."

Edward chuckled softly. "I'll give you a ride in my cab back to Knapford. It's on the way to Suddery anyways."

"Thank you, Edward. And thank you for... helping me."

The old engine didn't say anything, just gave Anthony a small, quick smile. A few minutes later his driver and fireman came and Edward told them to let Anthony ride with them in his cab; they agreed and the young historian was soon back at Knapford Station.

He still had some time before his next lesson started and he decided to sit down on one of the benches at the platform and watch as Sodor's living engines came and went and talked to their passengers. It really was like stepping into a different era - and soon, Anthony hoped, another gate would open to that faraway era that was lost in mist.


	2. Chapter 2

Lost in Mist II.

The next day, Anthony was at Knapford Station after his last lesson ended. Edward told him he still had some passengers to deliver at the time and he would come about an hour later. Anthony didn't mind. He was at peace sitting on a bench at the station - it had been a long time since he felt so peaceful.

He watched the people interact with the engines. He slowly got to know them, which name went to which engine. It was a cheerful day, the locos seemed relaxed as well. The Sudrian express, the Wild Nor' Wester' stood at the first platform, Gordon had just backed up to the coaches and was coupled up to the train in no time. He was a big engine, a fine work of the famous Nigel Gresley. He had a handsome face with strong features, his voice was rich and booming and his whole appearance commanded respect. Anthony thought he seemed more of the type who would be suitable for being the leader of the railway instead of kind and old Edward. There must have been something more to the elder locomotive than meets the eye.

"Good afternoon, mr. Raves."

Anthony jumped when he heard his name. Edward had just rolled into the station; his cheeks were still a little red and he was taking deep breathes, but he was smiling nevertheless and his voice sounded strong and healthy. Anthony got up and walked over to Edward just as they heard a loud voice echo through the station.

"All aboard!" Gordon's voice boomed and, like a miracle, the passengers started getting up the coaches faster.

"So you're really determined to hear it from me, aren't you?" Edward asked Anthony with a much quieter and gentler tone.

"I'd like to hear anything you have to tell." Anthony replied.

Edward looked ahead to see if Gordon was ready. He was now, and the last of his passengers were boarding his train.

"Have you ever been to Knapford Harbour?" Edward asked, still looking at the express coaches. Their doors were closed now and Gordon let off steam in preparation.

"No," Anthony answered, "I've never been to that part of the city."

Edward turned back to the young man. "We'll go there." he said. His face wasn't red anymore and his breathing had calmed down. "Climb into my cab. We'll wait for Gordon to depart and then we'll leave, too."

It didn't take long until the last coaches were checked and doors closed, and Gordon was off with the express. His speed increased quickly; after he left, Edward took off from the station as well and his line followed Gordon's for a while, but the bigger engine was soon out of sight. Anthony was still amazed at how fast steam engines could still run. He kept forgetting just how much mastery was put into these machines. Of course, they weren't as fast as modern, electric engines, but they still had enormous power in them, power that they carried through many decades, some even more than a century as Anthony learnt. And they still held this reputation even to these days where modernization had long taken most of them from the rails.

The way to the Harbour was not a long one, but they met many engines until they arrived. Knapford was an important junction, and they didn't even go all the way to the harbour station. Edward stopped on a side track near the beach where the Sudrian Sea could be seen. As Anthony stepped down from Edward's cab, another engine, a big, green, graceful one thundered along the far left tracks and he blew his whistle when he saw Edward. The old engine whistled back with a smile just as Anthony walked ahead to see his face.

"Was that Henry?" he asked and Edward turned his eyes to him.

"Yes, it was him." the elder locomotive replied. His driver and fireman left to eat something in a snack bar at the harbour where they could still see and hear Edward if he needed them.

"I heard he had been very sick." Anthony continued, looking after Henry, "He looks healthy now."

Edward smiled absently. "He can still be very ill sometimes, though not as much as he used to. He's getting old, too, and it's getting harder for him when he does get sick, but he takes care of himself. He's very strong. In fact, Henry is probably the strongest engine I have ever known."

Anthony listened with a puzzled frown on his face. "I thought Gordon was stronger than him. And I heard about an engine named Murdoch..."

Edward chuckled now, "I'm not talking about physical strenght, youngster, though Henry _is_ one of the strongest engines on Sodor. But what he had been through back then... anyone would have gone crazy. Come, climb onto my footplate. It's more comfortable than standing."

Anthony accepted his offer and climbed up. He could have even touched Edward's face now; he was curious to know how that would feel, if the texture of the engine's skin would differ from his or not, but he stopped himself. Anthony didn't feel that would have been too polite and he wasn't there to study their anatomy; he wanted to hear Edward's story at last.

"We were close friends with Henry back then, during the war." Edward spoke up, his gaze sometimes wandered from Anthony to the sea, "It was hard for him. You might know that his design was full of flaws. Sometimes he couldn't even build up enough steam to get out of the shed. He needed Welsh coal, but in the years that preceded the war... the so-called "Great Depression" as you know it today... the controller couldn't afford it. He struggled a lot. Even though he had been rebuilt, after a while, he needed the coal again. And when he didn't get it, it was... torture for him."

"Like an addiction?" Anthony asked quietly.

Edward didn't answer immediately, his eyes were still fixed on the gentle waves that stroked the beach next to them. "Yes, sort of." he answered, still deep in thought.

Anthony took off his bag from his back and searched in it until he found a small machine that looked almost like a mobile phone. "May I record our conversations?"

"Do as you wish."

Anthony activated the recorder and turned back to Edward expectantly.

"Well," the old engine mused, "where shall I begin?"

"At the beginning?" Anthony asked innocently, causing Edward to burst out laughing; his whole frame shook gently.

"I would have never thought about that." he finally said. He became silent again, his gaze turned to the sea. "First, I think I should tell you about the engines who are not part of this railway anymore." Edward sighed and continued, "There were four engines who worked here at the time, but are not here today. Back then, the number three engine was not Henry but an engine called Alex. He came with Thomas in 1915, and when Henry arrived seven years later, he became number four and so on. After Alex was gone, Henry stepped in his place as No.3 engine, Percy became No.6 and later Toby took the number seven on the railway from him. But that was after the war. Also, there were three engines whom the controller never bought, just borrowed; No.87546 Daniel, No.98462 Rachel and No.899 Sammy. Samantha. Also, there was a fifth... but I'll talk about her later."

The old locomotive stopped for a moment. It seemed he was organizing his thoughts and Anthony waited patiently for him to speak again.

"I told you that I had been the leader of this railway." Edward finally went on, "Even before that, when Sir Phineas Hatt was still alive, I was part of the Sudrian Railway Council along with the controller. The railways' oldest engines were also members, so it wasn't just me - members of the Council were Sir Handel Brown with No.1 Skarloey from the Skarloey Railway and also Mr. George Murray with No.1 Duke from the Mid-Sodor Railway. From the Culdee Fell Railway, only Lord Harry Barrane came, and the Mid-Sodor Railway railway was in decline by then and it eventually closed not long after the war. We all met at Kirk Machan, because that was the only place where all three railway lines met. At that time, the Skarloey Railway had a line that ran to Kirk Machan between the mountains Shane Dooiney and Culdee Fell, but that was closed down later. Nowadays, it reopened and runs to Ulfstead."

"What about the Arlesdale Railway?" Anthony asked, "I don't know who is the oldest engine there... or it would've been too complicated to meet at the same time?"

Edward listened to the question and smiled. "Well, it _was_ complicated, given the different gauges of our railways. But the Arlesdale Railway did not exist back then."

"I see." Anthony said, "Sorry for interrupting you."

Edward smiled. "That's alright." he replied quietly, "At least now I know where to begin."

However, before he continued, he looked around the area one more time and his gaze settled on Anthony as he started talking.

"After we came out victors of the first world war, we didn't think there would be another. Even in the years of the Great Depression, we didn't think there would be another war. The first hint came one year after Chamberlain became prime minister, at a council meeting..."

* * *

_14 August, 1938_

Edward puffed slowly towards Kirk Machan, taking deep breathes. He was nervous; that morning, when he met the controller at Knapford, he looked rather grim when he told his engine they had to go to a meeting. Edward didn't want to hear any more bad news, they already had enough of them. They were helpless against the crisis - first, the number of passengers started to decrease and it had become more dramatic recently. The controller could only afford low-quality coal that made steaming hard even for healthy engines, and they hadn't been repainted for almost a year. Edward felt ashamed of his own dull, blistering paint, but he was not the only one with this problem.

Life became poorer and less.

He arrived right on time just as Skarloey rolled in with Sir Handel Brown in his cab. Sir Phineas Topham Hatt, director of the North Western Railway also stepped out of Edward's cab and shook hands with his brother-in-law, then went to shake hands with Lord Harry Barrane and George Murray as well - they had already been there with Duke. The three engines greeted each other; they had met several times during their work and Edward knew they were in no better state than they were on the standard gauge railway. He and Duke looked nervous and expectant as Sir Handel Brown stood up, and at the same time, Skarloey turned his gaze to the ground, as if he already knew what was coming.

"My friends," Sir Handel began, "We recieved a request from the Ministry of Defence..."

Edward frowned hearing that name. Now he knew why his controller looked so miserable; it couldn't be good.

Sir Handel continued, "As you may know, the slate quarry and mines at Ward Fell, just below Lake Skarloey were closed down. The Ministry asked us to sell these mines to them. They would use them for the storage of... ammunition."

"Ammunition?" Edward exclaimed, "What for?"

"We have recieved news that Germany is getting stronger." Sir Phineas spoke up, "This operation is to be kept secret, just in case..."

Just as he finished, both Duke and Edward looked at him in shock, but it was the Mid-Sodor engine who spoke first this time. "You have already agreed to this?"

"No, we haven't yet." Skarloey answered him quietly. Sodor's oldest engine raised his gaze to meet Duke's, then looked at Edward, too, before he continued, "But we have to say that it was more of an order than an offer."

"But why here?" Edward asked, his voice quieted down, "Why on Sodor?"

"Because it is a small, inconspicuous island, but close to the Mainland." Lord Harry Barrane replied this time. "The Germans don't know much about this place; perfect for hiding the required ammunition."

Edward now stayed quiet as he looked around the faces of the four humans. It was obvious to him that they had already talked about it and were about to agree to let the Ministry change the quarries of Ward Fell into storage area.

No one spoke for a while until Skarloey decided to say it out loud. "We have to be ready for anything, my friend."

Edward pressed his lips together and turned his gaze to the ground. That was exactly what he dreaded to hear.

"Think about it, Edward." his controller finally said to him. "We need the money. All of us need it. The rails hadn't been maintained for months, you all need repairs. We could use standard coal again. Think about Henry..."

"I know that." it was hard to keep himself from snapping at his superior, but Edward tried to keep his voice as low as possible, "I work with him every day, I help him home every night when he cannot go anymore. I would be more than happy if he wouldn't have to struggle anymore. I know we need the money, but we have to think about the consequences." his anger just grew and he had to stop for a minute before he continued. He turned to Sir Handel Brown and Skarloey as he spoke, "We'll just bring unwanted attention to ourselves. What if it's discovered? Sodor will be a main target. And then, you're railway will be in great danger."

"We don't want this either, Edward." Sir Handel replied in a stern voice, "It is not guaranteed that there will be a war. Sodor has always been a safe place... much safer than the Mainland. Believe me, I wouldn't expose my railway to such a thing if it wasn't necessary. It is... the order. And as Sir Phineas said earlier, it will be kept a secret. You can tell the other engines about it; after all, they need to help with the transportation and constructions, but they don't have to know about it's exact location - just that it's somewhere on the Skarloey Railway. Only we and Rheneas know that it will be at Ward Fell."

Edward kept quiet and looked at Sir Phineas - he knew this had been decided, and he knew he'd have to tell the other engines. He shivered at the thought.

Sir Handel Brown continued with a much quieter voice, as if he was apologizing, "You on the North Western Railway will have to pick up the ammunition at Barrow-in-Furness and Vicarstown and take it to Crovan's Gate. From there, Skarloey and Rheneas will pick them up and take them to Ward Fell. Duke... you and the others on Mid-Sodor will bring building materials from the mines."

"You mean, from those two that we still have?" Duke asked, raising an eyebrow. From the three of them, he was in the worst state - the once proud locomotive, the Duke of Sodor's own engine now looked as unkept as a scrapyard shunter. Passengers barely used the Mid-Sodor Railway anymore and the mines were also closing down. They had to sell a few engines and coaches to keep their company running. Though no one said it out loud, they all knew that if it keeps up, the Mid-Sodor Railway would have to be closed.

"We will organize things." Sir Phineas Hatt spoke, "And don't worry just yet. This does not mean that we will see a war again."

Edward wished with all his heart that his controller was right.

"You knew it all along, didn't you?" Edward asked him quietly when they arrived back to Knapford. Sir Phineas Topham climbed down from his engine's cab and walked ahead to see his face. He put a gentle hand on Edward's smokebox.

"I did," the controller started, "and I wasn't happy either, you can imagine. But it's nothing more than storage, and the Ministry is willing to pay for it. You know it as well as I do, that in the middle of the crisis, we need all the money we can get."

"Phineas," Edward sighed, "we have known each other for years. You could have expected that I wouldn't agree to something like that. But I guess I don't have much say in this matter..."

"You do." Sir Phineas replied, "We knew you wouldn't agree... neither of you. At first, the Ministry wanted to set up a whole base here, but we refused. We knew you would have found the idea impossible, and so did we. But this one is... well, more innocent."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "_Innocent?_" he asked sarcastically and the controller shook his head.

"You know what I mean." he grumbled. He looked just as nervous as his engine. "It will get better. With the money we get, we can finally stand back up a little. It will all be alright."

"That is what you said before the first, too." Edward murmured.

"Don't be so pessimistic." Sir Phineas patted his smokebox, but Edward just huffed.

"I'm not pessimistic, Phineas." he said, "It's your nervousness that's contagious."

The director of the railway couldn't say anything to that. Edward was right - how were they supposed to be hopeful when he, their leader wasn't sure of himself either? But that couldn't be the way. He really wanted to hope that it would get better. It needed to get better after all they had gone through.

"It's getting late." Edward spoke up, breaking the silence, "I'll go find Henry. Good night, sir."

With that, he let off steam and pumped his pistons as he rolled out of Knapford. His mood darkened together with the sky as he made his way to Haultraugh. He coughed a little and went slower than usual; this coal didn't do any good to him either, but for Henry, it was worse. He struggled even for air, but he still pushed himself to work to the point where he simply couldn't go on anymore. Edward tried to forget his worries over the Ministry's request and concentrate on finding Henry. He was more worried about him and just hoped he hadn't pushed himself too hard that day.

As he expected, Henry was still at Haultraugh, he didn't have the strenght to leave for home yet. He stood on a siding as Edward came face to face with him; on the outside, he was a beautiful, strong engine, but on the inside he was far from perfect. His face was pale and his mouth black from the soot he kept coughing up. He was trembling slightly from weakness, though he had been worse - Edward smiled at him sadly and blew his whistle to greet the other engine.

"Hello, Henry." he said quietly, "Are you finished? Can we go home?"

Henry opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was broken by another coughing fit that shook his whole frame. He spat a mouthful of coaldust onto the ground and his driver looked out of his cab with a worried frown. He looked at Edward with pleading eyes; both of them knew that Henry wouldn't be able to make it to Tidmouth on his own.

Edward went ahead to a turntable until he was on the same track as Henry and slowly rolled up to him. His buffers met Henry's tender with a gentle bump and he called out to the bigger engine, "I'll help you. Just take it easy."

"I can go." Henry wheezed, still panting for air after coughing so much. He gathered all the strenght and steam he had left and rolled his rods. He bit back a groan as sharp pain shot through his bolier tubes, but kept going - he felt Edward pushing him gently from behind, trying not to hurt him any further. He took care, and Henry was immensely grateful for that. The others helped him when they could, but it was Edward who always rushed to him when he needed help, it was him who escorted him back home after a hard day and kept him company.

"How was the meeting?" the green engine called out to his friend, his voice was still raspy and Edward had to concentrate hard to pick out his words from their combined chuffing.

He sighed before he answered,"I'll tell you all at Tidmouth."

"Is it... something bad?"

"Save your breath, Henry." Edward told him as kindly as he could, "I'll tell you everything."

Everything you need to know, he added to himself. He felt a little relieved when Henry stayed silent and did not ask any more, but the silence was soon replaced by Henry's wheezing again. The going was painfully slow and Edward felt the bigger engine's weight rest more and more upon him. He pushed Henry to Tidmouth to a water coloumn first before they went to the sheds; both of them needed a washdown, this bad coal sootet more than their usual coal would have. Henry's breathing had calmed down a bit and he wasn't trembling that much either, but he was still frighteningly pale - though, as Edward thought about it with a sad frown, he was getting used to seeing his friend like that.

Every engine was there at Tidmouth Sheds by then, everyone gathered to listen to Edward and what he had to say about the most recent meeting of their small council. The Sheds had seven berths, occupied by the Nort Western Railway's own engines; the three borrowed engines usually slept at Knapford Sheds, but now they also stood outside of the white shed of Tidmouth as Edward rolled in, pushing Henry to the turntable so he could roll back to his berth.

Of the three borrowed engines, there were two big and one small locomotive. The two big ones were siblings from the London and North Eastern Railway, they were Class B12 tender locos, both painted in light blue. One of them, No.87546 Daniel frowned when he saw the two engines puff slowly into the resting area while his sister, No.98462 Rachel looked worried; when Henry finally rolled up to his berth, their eyes met and Henry sent a small smile to her - to reassure her that it was alright. Just another day. The third engine, who stood next to Thomas, Sammy, was a tank engine from the London, Midland and Scottish Railway and she was the youngest of them. She had just arrived on the railway a year earlier to help with shunting and lighter trains. She had beautiful big, chestnut eyes that sparkled with innocence as she looked at Edward - the elder engine's boiler tightened when he saw that look.

"Today's meeting was about..." Edward began, but stopped for a moment. He decided to tell them straight away, "We got an order from the Ministry of Defence from the Mainland. They will use an area on the island to store ammunition..."

"What?" one of the engines, No.3 Alex exclaimed. He was a red tender engine, almost identical to James. However, he had been on the railway earlier and had been through a war once. He knew exactly what this request could mean...

"Yes, that's right." Edward confirmed quietly, looking around all the engines. "We will pick up the ammunition and men at Barrow-in-Furness and take them to Crovan's Gate. From there, Skarloey and Rheneas will take them further. Our timetables will be organized to contain these transports."

"Where is exactly that area?" Gordon asked; his voice was already deep and mature, that of a fully adult engine, and his face was serious.

Edward looked him in the eye - he was almost horrified to notice how good he had become at lying to his friends. "I don't know."

And they trusted him.

"If it's somewhere along the Skarloey Railway," Daniel spoke up sullenly, "then it's far enough from us."

"That is right." Edward had to agree, "And the Ministry will pay for it to us. We'll finally have some money for repairs. Maybe even coal and new coats of paint."

He smiled despite how he truly felt, just to reassure his younger colleagues that it was alright. That it didn't mean grave danger for all of them; it was just another task that had to be done. To give them the hope that even he didn't have. Some of the others smiled back at him. Of course, they all wanted things to go back to normal and longed for this crisis to end. They were all tired of the hardships of it all.

Edward had nothing more to say, and Daniel, Rachel and Sammy prepared to go back to Knapford, but before she left, Rachel rolled a little towards Henry.

"Should I stay?" she asked softly. Her companion's face was a ghostly colour in the misty light of the shed's lamps, but he smiled feebly at her.

"No, it's okay." Henry answered quietly. "Go. I'm alright."

Rachel smiled back and steamed out of the sheds after her brother called out to her to go as well. After they went away, the other engines also rolled back into the building and their drivers and firemen closed the doors of their berths. Silence fell on Tidmouth Sheds as Edward was turned slowly to the rails that led to his resting place. He sighed when the turntable stopped with him and remained standing there for a while. He took deep breathes with his eyes closed until he heard his name from behind.

"Edward?"

It was Thomas, the Number One engine of the railway. He was a small tank engine, but he had already been through more than the other engines of the railway. He had always been a cheeky little boy who always smiled, but he was no longer a boy. If one compared him to James or Gordon or Daniel, no one would've guessed that Thomas was the older of them. In fact, he had arrived not long after the North Western Railway was opened, back in 1915. Alex came months after him, and the next engine, Henry, came seven years later. He was followed by Gordon, James and finally young Percy.

He was only a year old when World War I broke out and shook their lives. He had to grow up quickly, and when the war ended, it was like he had lived a second childhood - the childhood he didn't have during the war. Edward took care of him and got him out of trouble whenever he caused mischief. Thomas was like a son to him, and even though he always maintained his cheerful attitude, this son had grown up again; by now, he had matured into a young adult who knew exactly what such an order could mean.

He and Alex were the only engines on the North Western Railway who had lived through a world war before. They knew what it meant. They waited for Edward to roll up next to them, the three of them were the only ones outside the sheds now. "Yes, Thomas?" Edward asked back gently, though he knew from the expression on the tank engine's face what his question was going to be.

"Is it happening again?" Thomas finally asked in a barely audible tone, "This storage for ammunition... is Chamberlain expecting a... war?"

"These are all preparations, aren't they?" Alex spoke up, his voice low and quiet, like the war had already broken out.

Edward hated the idea of this and wanted to refuse it all - or rather, he wanted to wake up from this dream that was turning into a nightmare. His gaze travelled to the ground and he knew the two younger engines expected the answer from him, expected him to know it and reassure them; and he hated that he couldn't do that.

"Believe me," he whispered at last, sincerely, "I don't know. I truly don't know."

It went as Sir Handel Brown told them: the ammunitions came and the engines took them to Sodor through the Walney Channel, then brought them to Crovan's Gate. There, at the junction where the North Western and the Skarloey Railway met, just below the Steamworks, the two old narrow gauge engines, Skarloey and Rheneas took over the freight to transfer it to Ward Fell. Still only they and Edward knew where they went with all the ammunition and soon, men arrived as well to operate the storage.

They had recieved their money, but not as much as they expected. It had mostly been spent to repair the tracks, the engines and some of the coaches and even though that was a long-awaited relief, they did not get repainted or that good-quality coal they wanted. Still, the next year had been somewhat easier. They had work to do again with the transfering of passengers and freight and they laughed more. However, when they listened to the radio - a small one one of their drivers had brought in for them to the sheds - the news they heard were not always good.

At the beginning of the next year, Prime Minister Chamberlain declared that any German attack on France would be considered an attack on Britain; Edward shivered whenever he heard something, be it a hint or evidence, of an upcoming war. By the end of the summer, all British and French citizens were ordered home; Poland was in danger of invasion by the Nazi Germany, as they called themselves; and Edward was more and more convinced that something was going to happen. Something that would turn his worst nightmares real.

On the 2nd September, after they recieved word that the German started to invade Poland, the engines finally recieved some good news - they were to be finally repainted after two years. It was just a small, personal joy, but Edward felt that maybe there was still hope for them; that they would be out of this soon, that these attacks would be dealt with and Britain would not enter anything that its people would regret later.

He, Thomas and James were the first ones that morning to head to the Steamworks at Crovan's Gate to recieve their new coat of paint. They were smiling and talking about the refreshing paint, what colours they have gotten and how wonderful it would be to feel the touch of it on their worn bodies. But when they entered the works, Edward came to a sudden halt and the smile froze from his face when he saw the cans of paint. Thomas and James also stopped, wondering what had made Edward so shocked, but they soon saw it as well.

"Victor..." Edward started, his eyes still hadn't left the cans of paint and he couldn't keep his voice from trembling, "Is it serious? Tell me it's not serious..."

Victor, the narrow gauge engine who worked at the Steamworks rolled up to them, his face a picture of great sadness. "I am sorry, my friends." he finally said quietly, "Wartime livery had been ordered on the railways. This is the paint we recieved today."

And now, Edward knew that nothing would stop it from happening. The paint was black; darker than the starless night.


	3. Chapter 3

Lost in Mist III

"Victor was here back then?" Anthony asked with surprise. The previous day, he did some research on the engines to get to know them better, but he thought Victor had only been a recent arrival. Edward chuckled lightly.

"Everyone seems to think Victor just arrived a few years ago." he said, "No. He was here, but he was merely an assistant then. He was appointed chief engine of the Steamworks four years ago, it was then that he became more known to the passengers, too. Not because he didn't have the skills... he has a great knowledge of locomotive workings. But there are people who do not want to work with a... _machine_ in charge of them."

Anthony looked down, still frowning, "But... you are not _just_ machines. I mean, you have personalities. You are thinking, feeling beings."

"But not human," Edward stated with a small, knowing smile, "and that does come in the way most of the time. Take what I told you as an example; I was part of the Council, I refused the idea that Ward Fell be changed into a storage area for the military, yet it was carried out. Even I myself didn't know what dangers it could mean to us back then."

He stopped for a minute, his gaze turned to the ground as he murmured, "I was younger, and I still thought I could change things. But apparently, I couldn't."

Edward did not say any more for a while, and Anthony saw the opportunity to ask something that had caught his attention earlier.

"You mentioned that Rachel was Henry's... companion." he said. "What does that mean? Companion, as in 'mate'?"

"Hmm..." Edward pressed his lips together, "Yes, you could say that. Though we don't call each other 'mate' or 'lover' like humans do. Though it doesn't mean we can't love in the same way. Yes, companion is the word we use for each other, since we cannot be any more; just companions. And I can tell you that Henry loved Rachel dearly... but things were complicated back then."

The old engine's gaze turned to the sea again and this time, he didn't look back at Anthony when he continued his tale where he had left off.

"The next day, on the 3rd September in 1939, the United Kingdom, along with three other countries, declared war on Germany. We did not feel much of it at first. Not until we heard news about what you call today the Fall of France..."

* * *

_16 May, 1940_

Brendam Docks was again one of the busiest places on Sodor. Not just Brendam, but Arlesburgh Harbour as well and it brought much-needed traffic for both the North Western and Mid-Sodor Railway. Most of the passengers were either men going to the Mainland to the registrations and to join the army, or escaping from the Mainland to Sodor or the Isle of Man, some even to Ireland after the country declared its neutrality. People came not only from the Mainland, but from the continent as well, mainly from France or Netherland. Everyone hoped they'd be safe on a small island like Sodor, or just hoped the war wouldn't reach the British Isles at all.

Edward hoped the same.

It had been almost a week since the United Kingdom had a new prime minister in Winston Churchill and by then, Britain's part in the fights on the continent just grew. Ammunition and men were moved through the island and the engines were busier than ever. They hardly had time to listen to the news and in the evening when they arrived back to the sheds, they were sometimes too tired to even talk about the day's events. Most of what they knew were from their crews or from conversations of passengers. The harbour at Brendam was still the main source for news from the continent especially when refugees arrived.

An extra train was arranged for these people, most of them were taken to Wellsworth to the nunnery - the sisters took it upon themselves to make sanctuary for them. Some had to be taken to hospitals while others went to relatives to the smaller towns and villages. Edward was to take one of these trains now and was waiting for the passengers to board his coaches; their ship had just arrived and they were still full of questions.

"They came from France." one of the workers told Edward as they eyed the newcomers. There were men, women and children, old and young with heavy-looking bags and luggages. The dock manager directed them to Edward's train and they began walking towards them. They looked rather tired and uncertain; Edward guessed most of them couldn't even speak English. Finally, they slowly started boarding the train, but Edward noticed that a pre-teen girl kept glancing back up at the ship they came with and finally she grabbed her mother's arm and pointed to the ship with big, frightened eyes. She asked something in French that Edward could hardly make out among all the noises of the docks, but he could pick out a word that sparked his interest; "la locomotive..."

"Locomotive?" he asked and both the girl and her mother jumped in fright hearing Edward's voice. The young girl was the first to recover and answered the engine's question.

"Oui." she said, "Sur navire. Sandrine."

Edward frowned. He could speak a little French, though not much, but he could still understand the girl's answer; according to her, there was an engine aboard the ship. But how? It wasn't a freight ship, it shouldn't have carried something as heavy as a steam engine all the way from France.

Before Edward could ask any more, her mother grabbed the girl's hand and took her away to the train. Edward took one last glance at the French ship before he had to leave.

The train was allowed to stop just outside Wellsworth Station on a small siding close to the nunnery. Three nuns were waiting for the people to escort them to the sanctuary. Edward's driver and fireman also helped them unload their luggages while their engine tried to look for the girl he had talked to earlier, but he couldn't see her in the crowd. He wanted to know what she meant when she said there was an engine on the ship, but he was about to find out; a fourth nun hurried up to Edward and his crew.

"Good morning, Sister Clara." Edward greeted her. "Can I help you?"

"The dock manager from Brendam has just phoned us," she replied, her young face was still red from running, "he said they had found an... unexpected passenger aboard the French ship. An engine. They want you to go there... they don't know what to do with her."

_So, I was right_, Edward thought as he shunted the now empty coaches back to a siding at Wellsworth Station and made his way to Brendam again.

Edward was shocked when he arrived and saw the locomotive who came with the refugees. She was a French steam engine, a middle-sized compound loco with a smaller tender, already loaded on top of a flatbed. She was ugly, however; not because of any flaws in her design, her face was nice-looking, but she was full of injuries. Scars and bullet holes were scattered throughout her boiler, bringing a constant frown to her face, her features contorted and she look wiped by the pain. There were scars on her face, too, a reddish-purple circle around one of her eyes that was swollen; dried blood painted the side of her mouth and one of her lower teeth was missing; the rest of her teeth still looked pink. But what terrified Edward the most was when he saw some part of her cab tainted dark red - and knew immediately what it could be.

Yes, she was ugly, but it was all those injuries that made her that way - yet it was her eyes that stood out from all the imperfections. They were a sparkling ocean blue, a beautiful shade, but they were now filled with pain and exhaustion. Edward's boiler tightened uncomfortably at the sight, at the way she looked at him. However, before he could roll up to her, the dock manager ran up to Edward.

"It's good you came." he said, "We cannot reach Sir Phineas on his phone, so you have to decide instead of him for now. What should we do with her?"

"What would we do?" Edward asked back, frowning. "I'll take her to the Works, of course."

"That's not what I mean, you know."

"Yes, I know." the blue engine replied, "Since she came with a ship that carried escaping people from France, I think she can be considered a refugee, too. And as such, we must give her sanctuary here on the island."

He looked at the French compound again who was starring at him curiously and Edward sighed, "We will decide with Sir Phineas once I take her to the Steamworks. All the same, she must be repaired and as long as she heals from her injuries, we will not send her away."

With that, he slowly rolled up to the engine. She was taking deep breathes as if she had run kilometres, her face was pale, but by then, curiosity shone up in her eyes. Edward stopped before his buffers touched the flatbed and tried to remember all the French he had learnt before he addressed the engine gently, "Es tu Sandrine?"

She smiled a little, tired smile. "I can speak English," she said quietly, her voice tightened by pain, "but thank you. Yes, I'm Sandrine... Joan told you?"

Edward smiled back. "If you mean that short little girl with blonde hair in red clothes, then yes."

At that moment, they heard the chuffing of another engine and a whistle that Edward recognised as Sammy's. He looked up to see the small tank engine and saw her eyes widen in shock when she saw Sandrine. The French loco took no notice of that; almost everyone starred at her, she must have gotten used to that by then.

"Edward..." Sammy began, but the older engine soothed her.

"It's alright, Samantha." he said gently, "I'm glad you came. Please, could you go find the controller and take him to the Steamworks? We need to discuss things."

Sammy hesitated for a moment, she still couldn't avert her eyes from the numerous injuries this strange engine had, but she finally pumped her pistons and rolled out of the harbour. Edward did the same and pushed the flatbed with Sandrine slowly up his branch line.

"Are you the chief engine here?" Sandrine asked after a while, causing Edward to snap out of his thoughts. Her speech sounded a little slurred because of her missing tooth that had been knocked out, Edward thought the pain must have been really sharp, but fortunately it had stopped bleeding by then.

"You shouldn't speak." he said, "Just rest. It will take a while until we get to the Works."

"I just want to distract myself." Sandrine told him and took a deep breath. She winced when sharp pain shot through her boiler at that, but kept quiet about it.

Edward couldn't help but agree - maybe that would be better, and he wanted answers to HIS questions, too. "Yes, I'm the chief engine. Our director, Sir Phineas Hatt will go to the Works as well, and we'll discuss... what to do with you."

To Edward's surprise, Sandrine chuckled lightly. "I guess I should be grateful that you even let me on your railway, huh?"

"Well..." the blue engine raised an eyebrow with a small smile, "You sure have a way to make a first impression. But tell me, how did you get aboard a passenger ship?"

Sandrine took some deep breathes before she started, "The Germans invaded my country... it has been a week. Now, they reached our railway... I got caught... I heard the Germans were taking the engines to their land... I didn't want that. We did not recieve good treatment, and I didn't want to go to Germany to work for them... so I escaped." she stopped for a moment before she continued, "They chased us... fired at us. That's how I got the holes. They even threw a grenade at us... it missed, but the blow threw stones and building particles at me... thus the scars... the missing tooth."

Edward chuffed at an even pace as he listened to Sandrine and waited for her to continue. She did. "I just ran... people on the way begged me to take them with me when they saw me, but I didn't stop. My fireman was shot first. But I ran... I was dead-tired, but I just... ran. Then, they got my driver, and I was left thundering down the line uncontrollably. I managed to apply my breaks somehow when I came close to the harbour. A passenger ship was waiting there... I managed to stop, but I couldn't move any more without a crew... And I still couldn't think of anything else but the Germans on my tail and I begged them to take me, too. At first, they refused, but then a little girl... Joan... told the captain to let me up on the ship, too. After Joan, more and more of the passengers stood by my side when they saw my condition... and soon, I was on the ship."

She stopped again, for a longer time. "We were well on our way when the people told me we were going to Sodor. I just hoped there would be a place here... for me, too. Even if I... don't deserve it."

Edward frowned.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, "You're a tough engine. All the pain and fear you have been through... you deserve a place to rest.

However, Sandrine closed her eyes, as if in shame.

"I let them down." she answered, "All the people who begged me... even when my crew died for me... I just kept my mind on escaping. I only cared about myself. I'm not tough." she looked up at Edward with a frown on her face, "I'm a coward. A selfish bitch... that's what I am."

Edward winced at first at the word the engine used for herself. He sighed. He had seen many things, during World War I and even before and after that. He knew what fear could do; he knew it could change anyone in mere moments. He had experienced it even on himself and learnt not to judge anyone unless he knew the reasons for their decisions.

"Don't say that." he finally said, "You feared for your life. But you made it, and that's the most important."

"My safety had cost two lives... maybe even more." Sandrine replied. "This is the truth."

"Still, you're overreacting."

"I'm just realistic."

Edward sighed in irritation. "You're right, then. You're a selfish bitch. Are you happy now?" he gulped back his anger and forced himself to be quieter and gentler, "It is not my job nor my right to judge you. So, stop beating yourself."

What he saw surprised him again; a small smile formed on Sandrine's lips when she finally said. "Sincerity at last."

Her voice was still weak, but she had a point, and Edward found that he couldn't say anything to that all of a sudden.

"At least, we've been through our first argument." he said at once sarcastically with a half-smile, "Good for a start."

"Our first argument?" Sandrine asked back, and raised her eyebrows in amusement despite her condition. "Want me to marry you already?"

Edward starred at her for a long moment. He snorted, looking away - this woman was taking out his worst, he thought when he finally murmured, "Stupid bitch."

And to that, she just chuckled.

_"She was a strange one. Women weren't like that back then... didn't speak like that. She could really get on my nerves with her rebellious ways, yet I respected her, right from the first moment. I have never met a female like her before, and I was curious and angry at the same time. She didn't get angry when I insulted her, most of the time she just stuck her tounge out at me or made me realize that I was no better. She could somehow always tell when I was lying and brought me back down to Earth. She was intelligent despite how she acted sometimes and one would never know what she would say or do the next moment. This was her character and it made her a... really interesting person."_

"So," Edward spoke again after a while and took the subject to more serious matters, "it means the Germans are getting further and further inside France. They haven't reached Calais yet, have they?"

"No." Sandrine answered, her voice equally quiet and the teasing tone was gone, "Not yet."

"It seems there's no stopping them." Edward murmured. From the news he had heard so far, this was his impression - and he felt the nightmare turning more and more real. Just looking at the injuries Sandrine had made him shiver and he couldn't help imagine one of them looking like this. "They're getting closer. Sodor has been a safe place so far... many people escape here, but there's no guarantee Britain will remain a safe place for long."

Sandrine stayed silent for a while before taking a deep, painful breath. "So, you say I'm just prolonging the inevitable?"

Edward sighed. "I hope not."

When they finally arrived at the Steamworks, Sammy was already there with Sir Phineas as well as Victor and the works manager, all of them stood outside the building to recieve the injured engine; their eyes widened when they saw Sandrine. Inside the works, a crane unloaded Sandrine back onto the rails.

"How long will it take to fix her?" Sir Phineas asked the manager as the workmen started examining the damage immediately.

"We have to make a full examination before I can say anything, sir." the other man answered and just then, another voice spoke.

"Sir, with respect," Victor rolled forward a little to speak to the railway director, "by the looks of it, she will need new tubes and a whole new sheet. I don't know how much her innards are damaged, but still, it's a miracle she had got this far."

Sir Phineas looked down and nodded. "I see. Send me the full report and order the new parts she needs."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you..." they all looked up when they heard the weak, feminine voice speak. Sandrine was looking at Sir Phineas, her eyes shone with a tired light, but a feeble smile played on her lips that brought a strange beauty to her face. She looked at Edward, too, but didn't say anything. There was no need; Edward could see she was grateful despite their earlier conversation and he couldn't help smile back, just a little.

"Let me have a guess; you want her to stay."

Sir Phineas stood in front of Edward on the platform of Crovan's Gate station. He clasped his hands behind his back and starred at his engine who starred back - and Edward didn't want to lose this match like the Ward Fell case.

"Think about it," he began, "you got yourself an engine for free. Yes, her repairs will have a cost, but it could have been any of us. And she looks like a strong engine. The workload increased recently, we could use help."

"What if her director wants her back?" Sir Phineas retorted.

"I believe they have more serious ploblems than a lost engine." Edward said and his voice lowered to a murmur, "The Germans have reached them. She's just as much a refugee like all the people who escaped here."

His voice gained its strenght again as he continued, "Sodor has always been a sanctuary to everyone in need. The only difference is that she's an engine. She escaped here in hope for safety and a new home, and we ought to give it to her."

Sammy was listening to them quietly on the other side of the platform. She didn't dare say anything, but she was secretly agreeing with Edward; what she saw today, the reality of the war had shocked her and she didn't want Sandrine - or anyone - having to go back to a place where they could be no more than prisoners.

"Do you think I can afford another engine in times like this, Edward?" Sir Phineas started pacing with a frown on his face. Edward could tell there was something that bothered him, and it wasn't the fact that they had just got an injured engine from France.

"Passenger traffic increased. Freight traffic increased." Edward said quietly, "And it's not like we have lived like kings and queens before, Phineas. Life won't be perfect, but... there has to be place for her in this railway. Or would you rather send her back to the hands of the Nazis?"

The director looked up at his engine, deep into his eyes. "You know I would never do such a thing." he said, his voice gentler now, "But it's complicated. It won't be easy, but as you said... life is not perfect."

He stopped and Edward didn't say anything. He knew his controller and knew that he was a kind man - even if he refused the idea at first, he wouldn't send away an engine who asked for his help. He did not start pacing this time, but looked down on the ground in deep thought. Edward looked at Sammy and sent her a little smile to reassure her that it would be alright. Sammy smiled back; her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks rosy, and what a contrast it made to that wartime black livery they all had to wear. It had been months, but Edward still couldn't get used to seeing his friends in this dark coat of paint, especially not the young ones like Sammy and Percy.

He looked back at Sir Phineas when he patted his smokebox gently. The man looked down and sighed deeply before he spoke quietly, only for Edward to hear, "My son has been called in for war service. He's coming home tomorrow to say goodbye."

Edward frowned as well and looked down. He had known Charles Hatt since he was a small child and knew he would be the next controller after Sir Phineas retired. Now, he was also working as an engineer at Swindon like his father did before he came to Sodor. He was a kind and clever young man, but he was in the age where men had been called in; and he had to go. During the months since the war had broken out, Edward and the others had seen many families trying to rescue sons, brothers and fathers from having to join the army - from having to die in the battlefield. And he had taken many trains that were full of these young men, going to the Mainland because they didn't want to - or couldn't - get away from this responsibility.

Evening came earlier than Edward expected. His mind was still busy with the day's events as he returned to the sheds, but he was glad to see that Henry was already there; he was pale and taking deep breathes, but he looked quite alright. Rachel stood next to him inside the berth where usually Alex slept, Edward guessed Rachel must have asked him to allow her to sleep by Henry's side that night. The others were there, too, and Edward was the last to arrive as night fell on the island like a cold blanket. They couldn't go outside now since the blackouts began, and without the lights of the buildings, the night was darker than ever.

He backed into the shed and after his driver and fireman turned off the lights and closed the door, he sighed. The other engines were still talking quietly and all of a sudden, he heard Percy's young voice call to him in the dark.

"Edward! Sammy told us an engine called Sandrine came to our railway today. Tell us about her!"

Suddenly, the whole shed went silent as everyone wanted to listen to what Edward had to say about this new engine. If they were to have a new colleague then they wanted to know the most about her.

"She escaped from France." he said quietly, "She has been injured... greatly. I took her to the Steamworks, and it seems she will stay there for quite a while. I guess you can visit her there if you want to see her."

"And what is she like?" Rachel asked this time. Her light voice filled the shed like tunes of a flute.

Edward snorted and pulled his mouth into a half-smile. "Impolite, foul-mouthed and whiny, and acts like a wannabe martyr. She got on my nerves in mere minutes."

There was silence once again, but this time, it was Gordon who broke it, "You like her."

It was a statement, not a question, and Edward found himself smiling. "Just a little bit." he answered.

"A French girl, huh?" it was James' voice, and he chuckled in amusement. "You sure have a taste."

Edward didn't answer to that, he heard the others chuckle lightly at James' teasing, but he had to agree that the situation really _was_ amusing. He had never even thought about having a companion - sure, he sometimes wondered what it would be like to love somebody when he saw Henry and Rachel together, but he regarded it was mere curiosity. Yet, he now found himself wanting to know more about this engine who had just dropped there like a soothing star in a dark, boring night. Yes, it was just curiosity; what else could it be?

"So," Henry's quiet, raspy voice replaced the silence in the shed - he sounded serious, "you say one of the strongest countries in Europe has really fallen to the Nazis?"

Edward sighed. He knew it would be brought up sooner or later. Of course, when they heard the first news of German troops invading France and other countries in northern Europe, they didn't want to believe it at first. They didn't want to believe that Germany had really got that strong, and they just washed away countries and lands like a storm crashing down on earth.

They were coming, and nothing could stop them.

"Thomas," Edward called out to him quietly and gently, in the darkness "do you still remember the sound of the air raid sirens?"

The tank engine didn't answer immediately and everbody went dead silent. The air seemed to have frozen again when Thomas finally answered a short "yes".

"There's a chance," Edward's low, gentle voice seemed to cut through the silence like a knife through the heart, "that we'll have to get used to that sound again."

And if they did hear it again - that would be the sign that the war had reached their peaceful island.

* * *

News were not good.

The Nazis were getting closer and closer to Britain and they still seemed unstoppable. More and more refugees came with ever darkening news; the Germans have reached Noyelles; Calais surrendered to the Germans; Germany was about to invade the Channel Islands... but worst of all, the last time Gordon had taken the express to Barrow in the Mainland, he came back with news that there were bombings in England.

The enemy had arrived.

However, there were good news, too. By the end of spring, Sandrine was almost completely mended - she only needed a new coat of paint now. Her face had healed nicely and Edward thought, by that time, he could finally see what she was really like before all those things happened to her. He still couldn't figure her out at times, but they managed to have decent conversations sometimes. Edward couldn't explain it, but even when he came out of the Steamworks fuming at her annoyingly realistic manner, he found that he wanted to go back, talk to her more, even argue with her. It was somehow exciting, like a battle of words. Sandrine sometimes made it really hard to stand his ground, and Edward respected her for that - no one had ever been able to defeat him like that.

By that time, the others got to know her, too. All the other engines wanted to see her and visited her one by one at the Steamworks when they had some free time. All of them seemed to accept that she would be their new colleague and Sir Phineas had finally agreed to let her stay - though, Edward knew, he had other problems on his mind. Ever since Charles left to join the army, they hadn't heard anything about him. And he was not the only one; no one knew how many lives had been lost already in this desperate fight.

It was the beginning of summer when Sandrine finally left the works. She was as good as new, though the black paint gave her a mournful look, too - by then, only the scars on her face reminded of what happened to her. She smiled more and seemed easy-going and did a good job of hiding her sadness over her lost home, but she couldn't hide the small wince whenever they heard news from France and the glassy shine in her eyes, and Edward thought maybe it was partly because she stilled blamed herself for leaving everyone and everything behind.

One night, she could sleep in Thomas' place as he decided to stay at Knapford Sheds and the engines could finally ask her the questions that had sparked their curiosity - during the day, they didn't really have time to talk to each other, but in the dark of the night, when they still weren't too tired, they could finally talk about anything that bothered them.

"What are the Germans like?" was the first question to Sandrine from Alex. He had been very quiet lately, always seemed to be deep in thoughts and even now that he spoke, his voice was low.

Sandrine frowned for a moment, recalling the memories about the Nazi soldiers she had seen. "They aren't those... barbaric vandals we imagined." she finally started, "In fact, they were precise and collected. Stern and cold. They did what they were told without question and they seemed to respect one another and their superiors. But not us." she added bitterly.

"And did you see that Hitler guy?" it was James this time, "He is their leader, right?"

Sandrine snorted with a chuckle. "Yes. They call him _Führer_." she sighed, "No, I didn't see him. I don't think he will leave Germany as long as the fights rage on... but I heard him giving a speech on radio when the soldiers listened to him. He didn't sound like an almighty leader, rather a fidgety little man with a strong inferiority complex. The soldiers drank his words like they were in love with him."

Some of the engines chuckled and even Edward smiled a little. They all heard about Germany's leader who had sworn to bring Germany's pride back and lead his people to glorious victory over other nations. He seemed to be a fanatic at first, but Edward thought there must have been something more to him to have gone this far.

"He must be intelligent." he finally said quietly, "He must have planned this war and organized things well. Otherwise, how would he have been able to bring down such strong countries?"

"Fanaticism often backfires." Henry replied in an equally quiet tone, "He just can't win like this."

"But they will not reach us." Percy's voice rang uncertainly through the shed, "We are safe here, aren't we? Aren't we?"

"Percy," Gordon sounded annoyed by the younger engine's question, "they have _already_ reached us."

"B-but..."

"Don't worry," Edward tried to soothe him and shot a warning glance at Gordon in the moonlight, "no German soldier will ever set foot on British land."

_"But they did." Edward stopped for a moment before he continued, "it was the summer of 1940."_

_"The Battle of Great-Britain." Anthony said quietly instead of him and Edward looked out to the sea._

_"At first, the bombings concentrated on southern Britain, at ships at the Channel Islands. But then came London, Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland... and with that, Sodor."_

Henry coughed and winced at the bitter taste of coaldust as he pulled his train of freight cars out of Vicarstown. He only had five cars, but they were heavy enough for him. He wasn't given many jobs, but despite Sir Phineas' insistence that he rest in the sheds, Henry wanted to work. He felt useless standing in his berth while the others were busy and tired and he still had strenght to pull trains. He didn't want anyone to take pity on him and was tired of seeing the worried glances, the others' fright whenever he felt sick and them having to help him.

How he wished everything would go back to normal! He used to be much stronger than this... now he felt like a pathetic excuse for an engine.

When he arrived, he was sure he would make it, but now he already felt exhausted and it was just the beginning of the journey. He was to take the freight to Kellsthorpe Road and he didn't have any other jobs until three hours later. He could rest there and hoped he would gather enough strenght to make it back to Tidmouth on his own.

He felt stuffed-up and this constant urge to cough was driving him mad. It made him sound like an old, hoarse man and made his smokebox ache like crazy. It was hard to breath even without it, but this made his journey a nightmare.

Could it be any worse?

"Hey, old boy," his driver, Ted called out to him, "how are you feeling?"

"Fine." came the short, raspy answer. Ted shook his head; Henry always answered this, even when it wasn't true, but the man could tell by his sounds and the way he trembled that his engine had already weakaned himself enough.

He was right; a few minutes later Henry slowed down gradually and Ted heard his voice call to them, "Stop!"

Both he and the fireman climbed out of Henry's cab to see him when they came to a stop. Henry was trembling and wheezing, his face was white as a sheet. It happened again, and Ted sighed as he wiped his forehead. "I'll go, call for help."

"There's... no need," Henry wheezed weakly, "I just need... a little rest."

"You're pushing yourself way too hard." his driver replied sternly.

A signal box was nearby and he walked to tell the signalman to call another engine to help Henry with his train. Just as he was walking back to his engine, they heard the whistle of a fellow steamy and Henry knew immediately it was Edward. The older engine soon appeared going in the opposite direction and stopped when he reached Henry. There was a worried frown on his face.

"Can I help you?" he asked gently.

Henry's driver answered him, "Help is on the way, though only Thomas is free now. He's coming."

"I was going to Norramby, but I can help, too." Edward replied, "Thomas might not be strong enough to push both Henry and the train."

At that moment, the nice summer day seemed to become frozen in mere moments. They heard a strange sound, the whining of a siren nearby, but it wasn't an ordinary siren like that of an ambulance or a fire engine - Edward stood shocked for a minute when he recognized the voice and a violent shiver ran through his boiler.

"Air raid..." he whispered, and changed tracks immediately. "Go back to the cab!" he cried to Henry's crew, "Start him up! We need to get away!"

Henry's eyes widened in shock when Edward rolled up in front of him and his driver coupled him up to the other engine immediately. Edward was looking at the sky, and he soon spotted what the sirens had warned of; three black spots on the sky that were coming closer and closer at a dangerously high speed.

"What's going on?" Henry asked with a trembling voice, he looked up, too, to see what had made Edward so frightened and saw the planes as well. He gasped.

"Air raid." Edward answered sternly, "I'll pull you to Crovan's Gate, and no arguing!"

"Edward... I can't go..."

By that time, they could hear the roar of the planes and the wheeshing sound of a bomb being dropped. Edward gasped for air when he heard it, and was terrified to hear the explosion not too far from them. He pumped his pistons and started pulling Henry, almost in panic.

"Come on!" he shouted, "Of course you can go!"

"No... leave me here, I can't-"

He was interrupted by a loud wheesh and Edward realized with dread that a bomb had just been dropped close to them. He could even see it fall down onto the land and both of them starred at it in shock for a long moment. Then it reached the ground and exploded.

The sound was terrible, like the fires of hell had just raged through the island. The wind it created almost pushed them off the rails, they could feel the heat it carried, burning and smouldering particles, rocks and pieces of woods flew everywhere. They were flying towards their direction as well - Edward pumped his pistons again in panic and started moving Henry, when a particularly large stone flew towards them. He gasped when he saw it and pulled harder to get them out of its reach; Henry tried to help, too, with what little strenght he had left, but it was too late.

For Edward, it was a blur at first and the first thing that reached him was the sound of chains breaking. Suddenly, he couldn't feel Henry's weight anymore and the sight in front of him just slowly reached his mind. Henry was shoved off the rails, next to him the stone that a moment before was still just flying towards them. And on his boiler a great wound that almost tore it in two - and when it did reach him, Edward really felt like hell had just came crashing down on them.

"HENRY!"

* * *

Do you like it? Do you hate it? Should I delete it altogether? Thanks for all the views so far (és itt külön köszönet Nektek, kedves magyar barátaim! :) Jó látni, hogy ennyien vagyunk), but please, throw a review at me!


	4. Chapter 4

Lost in Mist IV

Edward had never felt such great fear before.

Henry lay on his side on the ground, steam and water were pouring from the huge wound on his boiler. His rods were bent horribly at an unnatural angle, his footplate was torn up and at least two of his driving wheels looked wobbly in their place - and Edward could only imagine what his other side could look like. The big engine coughed and hot water gushed from his mouth. He was struggling to get air, his lips were turning purple; he was awake, but Edward didn't know if that was a good thing at the moment.

At that moment, he heard a gasp that brought Edward back to reality. It was Thomas; he had just arrived at the scene and his face paled in shock when he saw Henry.

"W-what..."

"Thomas!" Edward exclaimed both in joy and panic, "Bring a crane! Hurry!"

The tank engine didn't say anything, he just pumped his pistons and hurried away as quickly as he could. Edward could hardly recognize his own voice and took big gulps of air. He needed to bring a flatbed for Henry... he needed to go quickly...

His driver and fireman, Charlie and Sidney had previously climbed down from his cab and ran to Henry's to help Ted and Henry's fireman out, but they couldn't do much. By that time, people came running from the nearby villages when they saw what happened, so Edward's crew went back to their engine to go to Crovan's Gate.

"Hold on, Henry." Edward whispered to his friend who opened his eyes slightly to look up at him. "I'll come back soon. Hold on."

Crovan's Gate was the nearest town and Edward reached it in no time; he had never run this fast ever in his life. He was still in a state of shock, no matter how he tried to clear his head and calm himself down. He heard the sound of another explosion faintly from a far side of the island, but didn't pay attention. Henry was injured and needed his help - he couldn't think of anything else.

At Crovan's Gate, he rushed to the Steamworks to get a flatbed and told the works manager hurriedly to call an ambulance for Henry's crew - and anyone who had been hurt by the explosions between Crovan's Gate and Vicarstown. He was sure help was on the way for the humans, but Henry's only hope was now him and Thomas.

Edward was panting for air when he arrived back to Henry from running so fast. People were still there and an ambulance had already arrived for Henry's driver and fireman; the villagers must have called them while Edward was away. A woman was kneeling beside Henry's face, too, trying to comfort him as much as she could - Henry was still struggling to breath, but the steam and water seemed to have ceased pouring from his boiler now. However, his lips were bluish-purple from lack of air and his face ashen, yet he was still awake and aware. He opened his eyes weakly when Edward chuffed up to him.

"Henry," Edward called to him gently, "Henry... can you talk?"

"No, he can't." answered the woman instead of him. It was no wonder, Edward thought, seeing that Henry could hardly breath at all.

Thomas arrived with the crane right when the ambulance rushed away with Henry's crew. The big engine was prepared to be lifted onto the flatbed and by that time, people backed away or ran to the sites of the explosions to put out fires and help the injured. Edward only cared about Henry; his crew, Charlie and Sidney had run out of his cab to help lift Henry. Edward winced when he heard the feeble whimpering the big engine made as he was lifted off the ground carefully in order not to break his injured boiler even further. Henry's features were contorted in pain and Edward didn't dare say anything until he was safely on the flatbed.

"Alright... It's alright..." he whispered to him, "Hold on... you're safe now. Just stay awake, Henry, please..."

His crew climbed back up into Edward's cab and he started pulling the flatbed towards Crovan's Gate. It seemed to have become a bit easier for Henry to breath since he was on his wheels again, but he still looked colorless and ready to pass out. Crovan's Gate was not far away, but for Edward, it was like the longest journey in his life. Henry didn't say a word and Edward didn't know if he had heard him at all, but sometimes he made eye contact and seemed to be aware of what was happening around him. There was a faint, whistling sound every time he took a breath as if something was blocking his airways and Edward didn't dare think about what it could be.

It seemed like eternity by the time they finally reached the Steamworks. Victor was already outside and gasped when Edward pushed Henry in.

"Dios mio..." he whispered. Workmen rushed up to Henry when he was inside the Works, Edward rolled back to give them space. Henry was prepared again to be unloaded onto the rails, but this time, something must have gone wrong, because the moment he was lifted, the big engine shut his eyes and screamed in pain - Edward cringed at the sound, he didn't think Henry would still be able to make any sounds at all, and it only left him gasping for air again. A thin stream of sweat ran down the younger engine's face and Edward found that he couldn't take any more; he rolled out of the Steamworks and stopped outside.

He had just realized he was trembling and crying, the tears drew thin lines into the layer of dust that covered his face. He took deep breathes, trying to calm himself down without much success. Henry's cry of pain still rang in his mind and he could barely hear the chuffing of another engine. It was Victor, with an equally scared expression on his face.

"Will he live?" Edward whispered so quietly that Victor could hardly hear him. The Cuban loco sighed.

"Yes, he'll live." he said, "But it will take plenty of time to fix him. I don't know if he has suffered... permanent damage, but he will live."

"Do everything you can, Victor." it was another voice next to Edward and he just realized that Thomas was standing by his side. He didn't even notice when he chuffed in, but his voice was just as desperate, "Please! Henry can't... Henry can't die."

"He won't." Victor reassured him, trying to make his voice as tender as possible, "I'll go now, see what I can do. You have done everything you could. Now go home, have a washdown and rest... you need it."

Edward and Thomas looked at each other. Victor rolled back inside the Works and Edward felt steam fill his cylinders again.

"Let's go home." his driver, Charlie told him gently and Thomas' crew did the same.

The older engine took a deep breath, no more tears came to his eyes. "No. To Knapford first... we have to tell the controller."

On the way to Knapford, Edward managed to calm down. He no longer saw the picture of Henry's pain-gripped face and didn't hear that scream that carried such an excruciating agony. Just a bad feeling lingered still in his mind, and he trembled slightly in weakness - the aftermath of the shock and rush to take Henry to the works. He trusted Victor and knew that their friend would be alright; Henry had always been strong and stubborn, and it was simply impossible to imagine that he would no longer be with them.

No. Henry would be fine. He had to be. It's just the shock of it all, Edward told himself.

There were hardly any people on the stations they passed - just a few had dared emerge from their hiding places, though the air raid sirens had long gone silent. The sky was empty and there weren't any traces of planes, it seemed to be over. At least, for the time being.

Sir Phineas Hatt stood shocked when Edward told him what happened. He honestly did not know what to say. The air raid sirens had boomed all over Sodor, and of course, they heard it in Knapford, too, even though nothing happened on that part of the island; but the director worried about the engines he knew would be on service at that time of the day. He hoped with all his heart that they would all be safe, even if they had to halt their trains, he didn't mind the delay - all that mattered was the engines and railwaymen's safety.

But hope would not change the ways of destiny.

The Baronet of the North Western Railway didn't know what to say. He had lived through a war before, he knew the horrors one could bring, but he had never lost anybody close to him - and he was close to his engines, maybe even closer than some people. And his relationship with Henry he could even call special; he was a sickly engine right from the beginning, but Sir Phineas could never bring himself to get rid of him. It gave him lots of worry to make up ways to improve Henry's condition, and they managed to make him strong and valuable, the engine he would have been had his design not been so full of flaws. Henry was a fighter and proved from time to time that he was worth the money and time spent to him.

And now fate had decided to test his strenght again.

"How is he?" he finally managed to ask. Edward looked down on the ground before he answered.

"In great pain, sir." he whispered. That was all he could say.

The controller sighed. "And his crew?" he asked quietly, turning to Charlie Sand, Edward's driver who had been standing by his engine's side. The man held his hat in his hands, as if to show his respect for the lost ones.

"His fireman, Robert was severely injured, but the doctors said he would make it." he started and looked down to the ground, "But Ted couldn't be saved."

Edward, Thomas and Sir Phineas looked at him in shock. Ted had been Henry's driver for almost twenty years, he was chosen so because he had worked with faulty engines before and knew how to keep Henry in order. He was a friendly and patient man and a valuable member of the railway society - the only one who had the skills to run a locomotive like Henry. And he probably hadn't even known yet what had happened to his driver...

"Sir," Edward spoke up after a while, "if you allow me, I would like to go back and keep Henry company."

"Edward," it was Thomas this time. He was tired, too, and looked sadly at his mentor, "Victor is there with him. You should rest and distract yourself..."

"I'd feel worse if I weren't there." the older engine told him quietly. Thomas didn't reply. He didn't want to see their friend in that horrible state again, but he knew that Edward may have seemed calm now, he was just as terrified, maybe even blaming himself for some unknown reason. Thomas sighed and decided not to argue with Edward or get him to rest. It would be a futile attempt to change his mind now.

"I'll go with you then." Sir Phineas said, trying to hide the tremble in his voice, "I must see how Henry's doing. And I want both of you to know that I am proud of you."

He couldn't say any more, just climbed up into Edward's cab and they left to take on coal and water before the older engine made his way to Crovan's Gate once again. Thomas watched them go and sighed deeply. He didn't feel up to taking a train right now, but he knew that, in Edward's absence, it was his task to tell the others what happened.

He hadn't felt the reality of the war hit him so strong until then.

"He's unconscious now, sir." the works manager reported to the director when they finally arrived at the Steamworks and Sir Phineas looked all over Henry. He frowned and bit his lips; he had seen damaged locomotives before, badly damaged, but seeing one of his own, one that he knew almost from his construction, hurt more than he expected. Henry's black boiler was opened up for further examinations, his damaged wheels and rods had already been taken away - his face was ghostly white and eyes shut, but for once, his breathing seemed to be even. Or, maybe it was just because he wasn't conscious.

"Passed out from the pain." the man continued, "We have pumped out the remaining water from his boiler and cleaned his insides from the soot to make it easier for him to breath. We don't know if his... mind was damaged in the accident. We'll have to find that out later when he regains consciousness."

Victor was standing beside Henry, looking up at him with a worried frown. His eyes met Edward's and tried to smile up at him to reassure him that the big engine would be alright, but Edward could not smile back just yet. He had calmed down significantly, but still couldn't find the strenght to speak. He was still covered in dirt and dust the explosion had blown onto him, he must have looked a mess, but couldn't care less. He just hoped that he was not too late and the men would be able to fix Henry properly.

Sir Phineas Hatt now stood next to Victor as he listened to the manager's words. He had listed the new parts Henry would need and they were plenty - he knew it would cost a lot of money and take lots of time, but they couldn't do anything. No one knew when this war would end or if any more bombs would hit their beautiful island, and Sir Phineas didn't need any convincing to decide that they would not wait for the war to end to bring in the parts for Henry. The engines were needed - and would not be left suffering because of the humans' meaningless fighting.

"Thank you, Mr. Rogers." he finally said, "Make him as comfortable as possible. You'll be noted when the parts arrive. I'm afraid... we'll need more than just for one engine."

The works manager, Brian Rogers just starred at his controller for a while before asking quietly, "What do you mean, sir? Henry is not the only one injured?"

"He is the only one _now_," Sir Phineas answered. Somehow, he looked older than his age, "but this war has just started... we have to be ready for more of this. Maybe even for... tragedies."

Edward didn't say anything, didn't even wince. He knew that just as well. Henry was, even with the severity of his injuries, among the lucky ones. But death was not picky - and in a war, they had to be ready to lose friends or family. Even themselves.

* * *

It was later in the afternoon that Edward heard the chuffing of another engine. Henry still hadn't awoken, but Edward remained there, talking to Victor when he wasn't working or just looking at his friend in silence while the workman did their best to stabilize and start fixing Henry with what little they had at the Steamworks. He looked to his side, waiting for the other engine to slowly roll up to stand next to him. It was Rachel, as he expected - her eyes widened when she saw her companion's condition and her face visibly paled, but she took a deep breath. No one needed her panicking there.

"I took your goods from Norramby." she said to Edward quietly, her gentle voice felt like fondling in the heavy atmosphere.

"Thank you." Edward smiled gratefully. He had long forgotten that he was supposed to take a goods train from Norramby to Cronk; he thought he would take it after he'd helped Henry home, but then, the air raid sirens made him forget everything and just the panic remained to dash to safety.

Rachel returned her gaze to Henry. Edward was glad she remained calm - it was not the first time she had seen him in bad condition, but she must have never seen such damage on any engine, and it was especially horrible to see the one she loved like that. Yet, she learnt to stay calm with Henry, learnt that he needed her calm and collected if he was sick or hurt. However, it didn't mean she was not worried; if only she could express how scared she was, how furious she was at the world for punishing them time and time again! Edward noticed she was trembling slightly, but her voice remained as quiet as before.

"Thomas told me." she whispered, never tearing her eyes from her injured companion, "He will wake up... won't he?"

"Yes, he will." Edward answered as gently as he could, "I don't know when, but he will. He'll be alright."

Rachel sighed deeply. "When was the last time he was alright?" she said to herself, "Of all engines... why did it have to be him?"

Edward had asked the same questions himself several times without finding the answers - there must have been no answers at all. Indeed, it was hard to remember the green engine strong and healthy when there was still Welsh coal, when things were still in order. When he could smile brightly, his cheeks rosy from a long run of a good day, and not because of the pain.

"We mustn't give up hope, Rachel." Edward told her, his voice suddenly seemed old and tired, "The war will not rage on forever, and he will be back to normal. He's a stubborn one, and wouldn't want us to worry either..."

"That's true."

Both of them looked at Henry with surprise when they heard his weak, hoarse voice as the big engine opened his eyes slowly and even smiled a little. He had regained consciousness for a little while, just couldn't find the strenght to open his eyes and his mind was still foggy, but now things cleared somewhat. The pain returned with consciousness, it was sharp, but not unbearable and his breathtakes still seemed calm.

"Henry!" Rachel exclaimed in joy, a great smile brightening her face. She couldn't restrain herself any longer and let tears dwell up in her eyes.

"Henry..." it was Edward this time; his eyes were still wide, but his voice just a whisper, "Henry, how are you feeling?"

Henry didn't answer. His expression still seemed a bit dazed as he looked around as much as he could, "I'm at the Steamworks... again." he stated, his words a bit slurred but understandable, then looked back at Edward and his companion with a confused frown, "How did I get here?"

Edward felt like his boiler had frozen. Henry was still conscious and aware when he arrived at the Steamworks with him, and Edward dreaded the possibility of his mind being damaged. He took deep breathes to calm himself and kept telling himself that it was just the shock, Henry was in a state of shock, that's why he did not remember...

"There was an... explosion." Edward started to explain slowly, "You were taking a train from Vicarstown, but you stopped midway. I stopped to help you when an air raid came. Do you remember that?"

Henry frowned again, "Yes... the air raid." he whispered and took a deep breath, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through his boiler, "But what happened? Were we...?"

He didn't finish his question, but Edward answered it for him, "A bomb exploded close to us. It sent flying rocks and wood all around... and one hit you." he stopped to let the information sink in. Henry looked down, his breathing seemed heavier again and pain tightened his features, but his voice was still quiet and calm when he asked,

"That's why I'm here?"

"Yes." Edward replied, trying to sound just as calm.

"How serious?"

"You're boiler is broken badly. Wheels, footplate, rods bent and torn."

Edward knew Henry had been to works with numerous problems, he was almost more of an expert at engine machinery than Victor himself. He had seen many things at the works, especially when he still lived on the Mainland, both on himself and other engines - different injuries and sickness. He was used to that, and he was aware of the problems of his own body - Edward knew he didn't need white lies about his condition, just the sincere truth.

"I see." Henry whispered, "That's why it hurts like crazy..."

He looked at Rachel when he heard her quiet sobs. Her eyes were red and glistening with tears that rolled down her cheeks like rivers of sadness. Rachel didn't cry too often, mainly because she was used to seeing her companion sick, but it was now too much; she had just got back some hope that Henry would really be alright and couldn't hold back her emotions any longer.

"I'm s-sorry," she whispered with a trembling voice, "I shouldn't be crying. Sorry..."

"No," Henry spoke quietly, "just cry. It must have been... hard."

He winced at the pain again and bit back a groan so as not to worry his companion any further. He hated to see her like that and wanted nothing more than to tell her it was alright, that he was alright. But he wasn't... they had to get through this one, too.

"What about you?" Henry turned back to Edward, "Are you injured?"

"No," Edward sighed, "it didn't get me."

"And my crew? Ted and Robert... how are they?"

Edward tried not to wince at the question. He knew Henry would want to know what had happened to his driver and fireman, but Edward didn't know if his friend was ready to recieve it; he may have been hardened on injuries or ailments regarding himself, but he had never lost anybody. He had never had to deal with death before, and the burden of reality was already heavy on him. Edward didn't know if he should make it any worse.

"Robert will be alright." he stopped and Henry's face fell. Edward sighed; he already knew the next part. "But your driver, Ted... I'm sorry."

And the burden was heavier than ever.

* * *

Twilight shone over the Sudrian Sea and glistened in Edward's eyes. He was alone for once as he stood just outside Knapford Harbour, looking out to the dark blue waves. Rachel stayed at Crovan's Gate with Henry and told him she would stay there for the night - Henry would be alright now. Edward left the works earlier to go back home to Tidmouth, but decided not to go there first. He needed to clear his head a little before he faced the others who were all expecting him to tell everything again. Needed some time alone and the empty siding just beside the sea was always the place he went to have that.

"Saint Machan, Patron of Sodor," he murmured in a silent prayer, "remember your people and pray for us to the Lord. Be with us in the times of hardship, help us stand if we fall..."

He stopped and sighed deeply. He really didn't know where to gain confidence from, but it felt good for now. He almost felt peaceful. Almost.

"Hey," the quiet feminine voice snapped him back to reality. Sandrine rolled up in front of him with a soft smile on her face, the setting Sun bathed her in bright gold like a fire goddess, "how is it going?"

"What?" Edward asked back, trying not to snap at her. He didn't want anybody there with him at the moment.

"Calming yourself." Sandrine replied, "You always come here when you're depressed."

"And when I want to be alone." Edward raised an eyebrow, but Sandrine pretended she hadn't noticed.

"I hope you're not blaming yourself," she continued, "because it's really no one's fault. You did everything you could."

"Why I am getting the lecture then?"

Sandrine decided not to pay attention to the other engine's annoyed tone. "Because you're blaming yourself."

Edward sighed and rolled his eyes. "And how is it you know me so well?"

"You're predictable." the French engine chuckled.

Edward couldn't help a smile form on his lips. In the growing shadows of the evening, the scars on Sandrine's face seemed to grow even darker against the paling light of the sunrays - Edward remembered when he pushed her to the Steamworks, she had been through hell on her own, and remembered talking her out of blaming herself for leaving her fallen country behind.

"Throwing my own propaganda at me." he finally mumbled, "Very creative."

"Because you were right." Sandrine replied to that, "You got pretty pissed at me, I'm just returning the favour."

"You're fighting dirty." Edward sighed, "I never stated that I am the good example to follow."

"Physician, heal thyself."

Edward just starred at Sandrine for a while, her unchanging expression turned to one of surprise when Edward suddenly burst out laughing. It wasn't a happy laugh, but not yet hysterical either; just the tension bursting out of him, Edward laughed until his eyes got teary. Sandrine waited for him to calm down and just watched the other engine as he turned his gaze up to the sky, still smiling, "Dear God, why are you punishing me with this woman?"

Sandrine chuckled softly, "I can't decide if it's the stress or you're just taking defeat hard."

"Maybe both." Edward smiled a little as he finally calmed down, "Now that you have successfully dragged me back down to Earth... why did you came? The others sent you here?"

"I came on my own," Sandrine answered, "though they _are _worried about you. We have to get back home before it's too dark. We can't stay out after the lights are switched off. And you should have yourself washed."

Edward chuckled lightly. "You say I'm smelly?"

"Just plain dirty." Sandrine smiled back, "Not suitable for a chief engine."

"I don't want to go back. Not yet." Edward murmured with a sigh. He knew no one was allowed out because of the blackouts, it would be no use delivering trains in the pitch black night without a lamp, but he didn't feel ready to go back to Tidmouth either.

"Stay with me." he added in a whisper as the Sun finally disappeared over the horizon.

"Okay." Sandrine smiled softly and they stood there alone as the world turned to sleep.

* * *

"And... when can we visit Henry?"

Percy's quiet question rang in the dark silence of the sheds. Tidmouth's only light was the Moon above the town and the engines could hardly see each other as they listened to Edward in the semidarkness. They listened without a word, even though Thomas had earlier told most of them what happened and Percy was the first one daring to speak.

Edward smiled a little, "Anytime you want. Just don't crowd in the Steamworks and don't tire him out. He still has a long way to go until he recovers."

"You're pretty lucky you weren't hurt yourself." Gordon muttered, but there was concern hidden in his voice.

"And brave, both you and Thomas." Sammy added with a smile, "I don't know what I would've done if it happened to me."

Brave and lucky, Edward thought, humming. He considered neither right to himself.

"That's it," he finally said quietly, his tone again turned serious, "what happened to Henry today could have happened to any of us. And it's not over yet, so whenever you hear the air raid sirens, find a safe place and stay there until the sirens stop."

Alex snorted, "Not as if there were much hiding places on the railway. Even a lone engine is too big to hide."

"It's true." Edward murmured, "What do you suggest, then?"

Alex shut his mouth and looked down. The older engine sighed again. "We have to take care not only of ourselves, but of each other, too. That's the only way we can survive."

"So, you say we have to stick to each other from now on?" James asked with a sarcastic tone and Edward couldn't help an amused chuckle.

"Sorry, James, but you're not my type."

The engines laughed silently - everyone was glad the tension was eased somewhat and they went back to talking quietly until they all fell asleep. Edward was the first to do so; he was very tired and hoped to get away from the memories of that day in the land of dreams.

Nothing happened over the next few days. The engines worked on repairing the rails where they were damaged and bringing supplies to the people where the bombs had landed. Everyone was busy and it seemed things were going back to normal, which was just what Edward needed. He went to see Henry at the works every day, just like the others when they had no trains to take - the parts needed to fix him still hadn't arrived and Henry was still in pain and weak, but he was always conscious now and regaining some of his memories. He hadn't spoken about Ted ever since Edward told him he died, and the older engine didn't push it. He still needed some time to accept it.

Edward had just arrived with a passenger train to Wellsworth from Brendam. It was full as ever, a good run. Edward glanced up at the sky out of instinct, but it was clear and bright, a light blue sunny day. He waited for the passengers to get out of the coaches and then shunted them out of the way. He decided to rest a little at the station as he still had some time before his next train and he smiled a little when he saw the local vicar, the Reverend Charles Laxley walk up to him.

"Hello, Edward."

"Good afternoon, father." he had not talked to the man in a long time and was glad to meet him again, "How can I be of service?"

"I just wanted to see how you do." the vicar smiled, "How are things going on the railway?"

"Fine." Edward was happy he could say that sincerely, "We are finishing repairs. Traffic is good."

"And how is Henry?"

Edward sighed. Of course, everyone who was just a little bit involved in the life of the railway knew about what happened to Henry. "He'll be better once the new parts arrive. Everything would be much quicker if it weren't for this war."

"I'm sure of that." Charles Laxley nodded, "We pray for Henry to get better. And all of you to be safe on your runs."

"Thank you, father. I appreciate that."

"I have to go now. I just wanted to take the opportunity to talk to you a little, my old friend. I hope to see you again soon."

Just as he left, Edward saw another person standing not far, waiting to speak to him. It was Amanda Croarie, the young wife of Charles Topham Hatt and the next Lady Hatt once Charles took over his father's baronetcy and the railway. She was a pretty woman and dressed in fine clothes despite the economical crisis that took down many in the world, though it was no wonder - her father was the owner of the Ffarquar Quarry Company and she was to be the wife of the next baronet of Sodor. But she had yet to maintain the same grace Lady Jane Hatt had, however, Edward couldn't blame her; ever since Charles was called in for war service, Amanda seemed particularly lost even with her family's help. Even now as she stood on the platform, the wind picking in her dress and hair, she looked like a statue of hopelessness, her beautiful youth lost in sadness.

"Amanda." Edward smiled softly when she walked up to him. She had allowed him to call her on her first name, after all, they had known each other for years - ever since Charles introduced her to his family. And she was barely twenty years old, she insisted the avoidance of being called 'madame' from the engines.

"Hello, Edward." she smiled sadly, "Do you have some free time for me?"

"Of course." the engine replied immediately, "What's the matter? Are you ill?"

Indeed, now that she came closer, Edward could see that the young woman was incredibly pale. She touched the side of his smokebox lightly, sending a pleasent shiver down Edward's boiler. However, instead of answering his question, she asked again, "Could you accompany me for a walk? I would like to talk to you."

Edward looked surprised, but didn't refuse Amanda Hatt's request. "You can travel on my footplate if you'd like to talk to me. I'll be careful."

After telling his driver, Edward let Amanda sit down on his footplate just above his front buffers and rolled out of the station ever so slowly. He tried not to let off too much steam and maintain a slow but steady pace. It was not the first time he had carried a human on his footplate like that. In fact, he had travelled with almost all members of the Hatt family like this before, even Sir Phineas and Lady Hatt when they were a young couple or Charles when he was little.

It was peacefully quiet outside the station and none of them said anything for a while. Amanda leant to Edward's face, touching hers to his. The engine's face was warm and his skin softer than Amanda expected. She reached out a hand to touch it; Edward didn't say anything, just looked down with a little surprise as he felt the woman's small fingers travel along his cheek, nose and chin. The soft caressing sent shivers down Edward's face, but he didn't question her - Amanda touched his lips for a moment before placing her hand back to his cheek.

"I always wanted to know how it feels..." she said quietly and leant against Edward again. The slow pace was as smooth as ever and she calmed down somewhat.

"What is it you wanted to talk about?" Edward asked gently and felt Amanda tense. The woman didn't look up to meet his eyes.

"I know I can trust you." she finally said. "I'm pregnant."

Edward braked hard and came to an abrupt stop. Amanda cried out, but managed to stay on the footplate - now she looked up to see Edward's shocked face and he paled when he realized what he had done.

"I'm sorry..." he stuttered, "Sorry, it was just... unexpected. I mean- congratulations! It's great news."

Amanda's eyes were still wide and she shook her head slowly. "No..." she whispered, "it's not great. Charles is still in Norway and they won't allow him to come back home just because I'm going to have a baby!"

Tears dwellt up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Edward understood immediately, but tried to sound calm to reassure Amanda, "Charles may not be here, but your family and the Hatts will help you. After all, your baby will be Sir Phineas' grandchild. And I'm sure Barbara would be more than happy to help you."

Barbara Hatt, Viscountess Harwick was Sir Phineas and Jane Hatt's first child, the sister of Charles whose husband, Henry Regaby, who was Viscount of Harwick, was also called away for war service - leaving Barbara with their two-year-old son. She was a kind woman and Edward knew for sure that she would be willing to help her younger sister-in-law.

"Still..." Amanda shook her head, "they have their own problems. How am I supposed to raise our child without Charles? What if he... what if he doesn't come back at all?"

"Don't even think about that, Amanda." Edward told her, "Your child will be safe here. And you will get help. I'll make sure of that."

_"That was Stephen Hatt?" Anthony asked curiously and Edward chuckled._

_"Yes. He was born in February of 1941. And Amanda's despair was not uncalled for; there were many women, wives of soldiers who found themselves in the same situation. There were children who never knew their fathers. And women who lost the will to carry on..."_

Edward was still thinking about his conversation with Amanda after he took her back to Wellsworth and made his way to Arlesburgh to take a goods to Knapford. The branch line from Tidmouth to Arlesburgh was a quiet one, but it grew busier as he reached the station of Arlesburgh Bridge Street. That was where the NWR came in contact with the Mid-Sodor Railway, just like it did with the Skarloey Railway at Crovan's Gate. Edward heaved a deep sigh; the summer day was hot even in the late afternoon and he was glad that was to be his last train of the day. He was glad he could go back home, but looked up when he heard the familiar whistle of another engine.

The whistle was that of a narrow gauge engine and Edward saw Duke pull up at the other side of the platform. He looked battered and more tired than ever and Edward frowned. Of course, none of them were the happiest, but Edward was still worried when he saw the forlorn expression on his face.

"Duke, my friend," he called to him and he saw he had just snapped the older engine back to reality, "what is it that's bothering you?"

Duke's eyes filled with overwhelming sadness when he answered Edward's question with a sigh, "We have just recieved news... the Duke of Sodor was injured severely during the bombings. He was taken to hospital, but... he died this morning. He's dead, Edward... His Grace is dead..."

Cold breeze blew from the sea.


	5. Chapter 5

**First of all, I am sorry for the long wait, however, I must tell everybody that chapters will be a bit longer apart as I am currently concentrating on my Transformers stories. Simply because those are what I feel like writing now. This does NOT mean this story will be entirely forgotten, I will update whenever I have the inspiration for another chapter. I'm not abandoning the story! And thank you for your patience!**

**Second, I just researched a little on the Thomas wikia, and discovered there was a list of the Earls of Sodor - Earls, not _Dukes_, which they are just fondly called by the people of Sodor. That's why I won't change it in chapter four, but I will refer to them by either name or "Earl" from now on.**

**And... yup. Sucky chapter is sucky.**

* * *

Lost in Mist V.

The rumor of Charles Norramby's death spread like a wildfire through the Island and to the Mainland.

The Earl was the retired Lieutenant General of the Sodor Regiment, and he was staying in Lancashire at the time. He was just about to go back to Sodor when the bombs hit the land; he could not be saved. Gordon recieved the honor of pulling their beloved Duke's memorial train from Barrow-in-Furness. Even during the wartime and the ongoing sporadic bombings from the Luftwaffe, a huge crowd came to bid their farewell to His Grace, nobles and common people alike. No one worked that day, not even the engines - all of them were stationed at Arlesburgh where Gordon made his stop with the memorial train and was taken further by Duke on the Mid-Sodor Railway to Ulfstead.

For some, it was a hit in the core, reality crashing down on them. Even important people died, not just the unnoticable, insignificant civilians. War did not make differences between rich and poor, old and young, criminal and innocent and lots of people who, until that point, still couldn't believe that it was really _happening_ around them, _to _them, fell into despair and depression.

It was the Duke today, maybe it would be them the other day. Who would decide over their fate?

The engines watched in silence as the dark crowd departed. They could not follow them all the way to the Castle, only the Hatt family represented their railway and the baronetcy, and afterwards, it was their task to take home the people who had attended the ceremony. Edward just wished Henry was there as well, after all, the Earl had always been attentive to the railways' business and progression. He would be dearly missed.

The next day, they would celebrate the new Earl, Henry Norramby, who already had to take his father's place as Lord Sodor at the councils. They couldn't feel any changes yet, and Edward hoped they wouldn't either in the future - except, maybe, the reconsideration of using Ward Fell as ammunition storage...

No, Edward thought. That was King George's order with Prime Minister Churchill's continued agreement. They couldn't do anything about that.

At least, the Island did not suffer any more serious bombing attacks since the one that injured Henry. The air raid sirens wailed up only twice, and the damage was minor and far from the railway. Henry was still at the Steamworks in Crovan's Gate and would stay there as long as they couldn't get the new parts for him. He had been cleaned out and what could be fixed without the parts was fixed, there was nothing more they could do for him.

Edward thought about visiting him as they all went to shunt coaches for their trains, but on the way, he noticed the forlorn look on their French locomotive's face and he rolled up to her. He did not think their Earl's death would have too much impact on Sandrine, she hardly knew him - the lord couldn't have meant as much to her as he did to them.

"Hey," Edward called to her gently, "what is it? You didn't look this sad yesterday."

Sandrine looked at him for a long moment before she finally spoke, "Your navy destroyed our ships." she saw Edward's frown, but continued, "A whole fleet at Algeria. Joan told me this morning."

Edward took a deep breath. He understood now - no wonder the French government had broken off their relations, "And what could you have done?"

"Nothing, but still... I guess I'm not angry with you, more with the fact that... I don't know how to say it." she seemed to be struggling with the words, but eventually found them, "I know you did it for your own protection, but if it wasn't for this goddamned war going on..."

Edward studied her scarred face for a moment before replying, "A troopship, a liner named Lancastria was sunk by your shores. Thousands died with her. Churchill was trying to cover it up, but news reached us vehicles. They say it was worse than Titanic's sinking. Do you know about her?"

Sandrine huffed, "Who doesn't know about her?"

"Well... I didn't know her, but I knew Lancastria personally. She was a good soul. We all have suffered losses and will continue so until this war rages among the people. We just have to survive."

"Sometimes I _do_ wonder how you can remain so realistic."

"There's not much else I can do. There will be a new Earl, there will be other ships. There will always be others. And anyway, without the war... you would not be here."

Sandrine was rendered speechless as she watched the Furness engine steam away to fetch his train. Did he really believe that? And if so, why couldn't he say it earlier?

Strange engines, these British ones...

* * *

"So, you had the hots for her?" Anthony asked, grinning, his confidence gained back somewhat by the friendly and genial way the old loco told him about his youngers days.

Edward raised an eyebrow with a surprised smile, "If you say so." he chuckled, "It was just a... crush back then. I guess her rebellious and straightforward attitude got me in the first place. And that was it... Henry Norramby was made new Earl Sodor the next day without much of a fuss. Things simply had to go on back then."

"But he was killed in the war, too, wasn't he?"

Edward looked down at the young man sitting on his footplate, "Yes, but it was just two years later. Lord Henry Norramby had to go away immediately, he had to continue his father's duties at the Duchy. It had almost nothing to do with us. Life on the railway went on like that... Refugees still arrived sometimes from the continent, and soldiers came and went between the islands and the Mainland. Even though we were protected somewhat thanks to the new radars, many friends... brothers and sisters were killed on the railways of the Mainland in those days... even more on the sea. Still, on Sodor, it wasn't so bad... I mean, compared to England and Wales. But we had our fair share of attacks. Especially after Göring started his assault on British land once again...

* * *

_18 August, 1940_

"Hey, you'll fall asleep again!"

Rachel's softly spoken exclamation made Henry chuckle a little. He stood on a siding at the Steamworks to be out of the way until workmen could continue overhaul on him. Rachel was finished with her last train earlier and went to Crovan's Gate to tell Henry about all that happened in his absence. It was a bright hot day, and Henry's pale face stood out in the shadows, light reflected on him from his companion's clean boiler.

"That's all I'm good at right now." he replied.

"It doesn't hurt at least, does it?"

"No, just... uncomfortable. And I'm just a burden again, when with this much traffic I should be-"

"Stop it before you work yourself up even more." Rachel just raised an eyebrow when Henry heaved a frustrated sigh at this, rolling his eyes, "Maybe it would really be better if you slept. I'll stay here."

Henry chuckled again, "To watch me sleep?"

"What does it matter to you? Be thankful you have someone to watch over you in your sleep." she scolded him playfully.

Henry studied her face for a moment and his smile changed to a tender warmth as he formed the words he wanted to say to his companion.

"I _am_ thankful. No one else has a guardian angel like you. I don't even know what makes you stay. You're too good for me."

Rachel looked surprised for a moment, "Do you really feel that? I'm just simply... worried about you. And you're belittling yourself."

Henry made a face that made Rachel laugh light-heartedly, it was moments like these when both could forget about the war and all the bad things that happened. Even the constant noises, clangs and whooshes of the Steamworks seemed to fade into the background like a natural rythm of machinery that would've lulled anyone to sleep and created a perfect atmosphere to surround their conversation. Henry had just dozed off listening to it, knowing his companion was there standing with him when the voice of her brother interrupted the mechanical lullaby.

"What are you doing here, Rachel?" Daniel didn't hush his voice, but Henry kept his eyes closed, feeling too tired to open them, "We have a double-header in half an hour!"

Rachel rolled back a little to stand next to the No.87546 engine and whispered in return, "I know that, Dan. He's just fallen asleep."

Henry heard Daniel snort at that, "I can't see why you're wasting your time here when there's work to do."

"Daniel, he's my companion!" Rachel hissed back, "Of course I'm with him whenever I can."

"Why, you just feel sorry for him. Just think about it, Rach. He's a _wreck_, and you feel that it's your responsibility to keep him up."

His younger sister frowned and couldn't say anything for a long moment. She knew Daniel had never approved of her being with Henry, and they argued about it earlier, but her brother seemed especially agitated now.

"It's just the bombings that's putting you on edge." Rachel murmured, by then angry herself.

"Well... compared to what our brethren are suffering through back at the LNER, what happened here on Sodor is nothing. They have been bombed on the Mainland a thousand times worse, even with that new tracking technology and the Americans' destroyers they couldn't prevent the Nazis from killing all those people and vehicles. And here... a single _hit_ put this engine out. He's weak and pathetic, and it's not your job to nurse him."

"Daniel... this is what companionship is about!"

"In your opinion, because that's what you have always done with him, that's what you always had to do. A companion should be stronger than you so he would protect you. And not the other way around. You deserve better, Rachel, and I can't come around to why you cannot open your eyes to this fact."

"Dan-"

"Come on." Daniel grumbled, though his voice turned a tad gentler, "We have a train."

Henry heard Rachel breath a deep sigh, but she did not say anything, and their combined puffing told the injured engine that she had followed her brother without a word. Only when he assumed they were far enough did Henry open his eyes and looked out in the distance where he could still see the greyish steam of the two locos. His face remained emotionless, but inside his emotions were raging.

He was angry, for one part, but the more he thought about it the more he believed that Daniel might have been right. He really _was_ weak, and sometimes _did _ wonder how Rachel put up with him. He should have been strong for her, but he wasn't - it should have been him who supported her and be her comfort. He was a sorry excuse for an engine. And he was starting to understand Daniel's reasoning...

Henry's thoughts were rudely interrupted by a familiar siren he wished he would never hear again. It was like an icy claw gripping him as the rythmic noises of the Steamworks gave way to the panicked rush of people to get to a safe place, extingushing fires and powering down machines not to attract attention to themselves as the air raid siren wailed through the island.

For him, everything grew still - Rachel and Daniel had just headed out. To the open field...

* * *

It was the first sunny day in a week and Edward took a deep breath. He was double-heading a train with Percy, ammunition that had arrived by noon to Vicarstown from the Mainland - it was their job to take it to Crovan's Gate, where it would be rearranged and taken further by Rheneas and Skarloey to Ward Fell. Only Edward knew about this, and he was made to swear not to tell anyone else. Still, it did not make his conscience any better.

It was a nice day, and he wanted to concentrate on it fully to forget their heavy responsibility.

"Edward," he heard Percy's voice from his front call out to him, "why are those people burying their baggages? What are in those?"

They were travelling next to a small village, some houses and byres were built close to the railway and now that Edward looked to the side, he was greeted by a somewhat familiar sight; a large family with three children had just finished digging a big hole in the ground next to their house and now hauled two almost fully packed bags into them and already started to bury them.

"Mostly their clothes and dishes... maybe some books and money." Edward answered, "They buried their belongings to protect them, in case of a fire or something else."

"Like... if another air raid comes?"

"Yes. Even if their houses are destroyed, they can come back for the bags."

"But, Edward," Percy exclaimed, "I heard that the Germans' bombers are losing in the battles because of the bad weather. It has been raining for a week, and it will rain more. It's good news, isn't it?"

The older engine frowned listening to his naive partner, "Where did you hear this?"

"From soldiers at the Kirk Ronan harbour. But it's a good thing, right? Edward?"

The No.2 engine sighed deeply, "Percy, you know I don't like it when you talk to soldiers." he said. Even though he knew he couldn't hide reality from the young little engine, he wanted to spare him from the more gruesome details of what was going on outside their island, and these young recruits tended to accidentally spill things Edward would better not have Percy know about. And anyway, even these soldiers could be misinformed, after all, all kinds of news circled around from various sources, many of which could not be trustworthy.

"I...I didn't talk to them," Percy muttered innocently, "I just overheard them. But Edward, tell me it's good!"

"Yes, it's good, Percy." Edward replied absent-mindedly, still looking at the village houses. The Sudrian scenery was peaceful to him, a little reminder of his old home back in Cumbria. Edward wondered if it would be better to be there, but soon decided against it. He was at home now on Sodor, on the railway he helped to build. He would not leave it for anybo-

The distant, yet sharp scream of the air raid siren jerked him out of his thoughts and the whole world seemed to darken around him for an awful moment. He almost stopped dead in his tracks when he looked up at the sky and saw, far away, that the planes were already advancing towards them.

"E-Edward..." he heard Percy stammer and felt the young engine start trembling, "is it-"

"Yes." Edward replied hurriedly and pushed him a little, "Don't stop, Percy, add more speed! Let's hope they're just flying through."

They were rolling faster by the moment, Edward was constantly searching their surroundings with his eyes to find a building, or _anything_ they could use as a shelter. It would have been enough if it was just big enough for the both of them, he did not care about the ammunition - he did not want to repeat what they had been through with Henry. Their safety was the most important.

Their crews were talking nervously, but Edward hardly listened to them. All he could think of was the aeroplanes of the Luftwaffe coming closer and closer. He hoped he just imagined hearing the whoosh of a bomb shooting down to the land...

"Edward..." Percy whimpered when they heard the first explosion. It was on the Mainland - the sound was distant, but they were still too close.

"Calm down, Percy, just concentrate on-"

The roar of the planes. The crackle of weapons as fire was returned from the land.

The villagers all picked up their most prized belongings, grabbed as much money and papers as they could and let the animals out. Sheep, cattle, horses and dogs all ran with the people, fleeing the hell that was about to rain down on them once again. Shouting was heard within the chaos, the crying of children...

One more explosion that Edward was sure came from the southern part of the Island, somewhere from Ballahoo. A fiery rage creeping up on them. Edward was faintly aware of the sobs coming from the smaller engine at his front.

"Just keep going!" he told Percy as the first plane shot past above them, "Keep going! Faster!"

They were out in the open, with only a few trees by the line that could not have hid them. They had surely been spotted by that time, a full train covered in tarps - trains like these were targets the Germans hunted for. And when this realization dawned on Edward, the world seemed to have turned ice cold again.

A bomb came down on them. Percy cried out - the explosion was thunderous and overwhelming and even though it was not close enough to throw them off the rails, Edward could feel the rush of heat and it sent flying debris and burning chunks of wood and embers everywhere. In their direction, too. Edward only had a moment to realize that a sharp, rocky chunk of ground was hurled towards Percy and the picture of Henry lying broken on the ground flashed before his eyes and with a rush of strenght and speed he pushed Percy forward, just in time to avoid him getting struck.

But he could not escape from it.

A dull pain in his smokebox, a sharp scrape over his face and horrible shaking - for a moment, Edward thought it would push him off the rails, but he managed to stay on his wheels. He grit his teeth to prevent himself from shouting out from the pain that burnt his frame, only then becoming aware of a strange, metallic taste in his mouth and warm liquid slowly trickling down his face. He spat out the blood - two teeth knocked out, he noted - and tried to fight the terrible dizziness that threatened to overtake his mind.

"Edward!" Percy's shouts seemed to come through a fog, but they eventually became clearer and louder. Edward just noticed they had stopped, "Edward! EDWARD!"

"I'm fine." he said, his speech slurred somewhat and he bit back a groan, "And you? Percy?!"

"I-I'm o-okay... J-just a few b-burns and scratches..."

"Alright, Percy, let's... go on... there has to be a warehouse close."

They pumped their pistons again, a stabbing pain alerted Edward that one of his rods was slightly bent, but not enough to prevent him from continuing the journey. They had to reach that small siding, that had an old warehouse, they would be out of sight and safe there. The dizziness returned and washed over him in waves along with the throbs in his smokebox and the world was constantly fading into blackness, but Edward fought to remain conscious. They finally left the fire behind them and the distant building of the warehouse came into view just before Crovan's Gate.

"It's there, Edward!" Percy exclaimed, but whimpered again when a plane rushed over the sky. Edward looked up, panic gripping him again, but saw that both it's shape and the direction it was coming from were different from the Nazi bombers - and finally, a small smile crept its way onto his lips.

"It's ours..." he whispered, "That plane is ours!"

"D-Does that mean w-we're attacking back?"

"Yes... the German flyers will be taken care of." he took a deep breath, the dizziness had blissfully started to fade, "Don't worry now. We'll stop at that warehouse... and rest. This train can wait. Calm down, Percy. It's over."

_For now_, he added to himself, but it didn't matter now. The British Air Force was making a counter attack and for the moment, they were safe. It was the second bomb Edward had narrowly avoided. Someone was definitely looking out for him from above, but his thoughts wandered to all the others, all the villagers whose homes were destroyed and were heading towards the woods to take shelter there... and he didn't even want to think about what could have happened to any of the other engines. He just hoped they had found a safe place in time.

He shuddered, but they finally reached the warehouse and he felt his driver apply his brakes. He even forgot about that in his musing and they slowly came to a halt in the shadowy depths of the building.

"Percy! Edward!" he heard a feminine voice cry out and a moment later realized it was Rachel's. When they had settled down, he saw the two siblings stand side by side, starring at them with wide eyes that were filled with horror. Rachel now breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing her colleagues, "Thank God you made it!"

"Edward, what happened?" Daniel asked him with a worried tone, "You're injured... did it get you?"

"Just... debris." Edward murmured. Now that they stopped, he was gulping in air from the exertion of the run, sweat running down his face, he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes again as the pain and dizziness returned with full force.

"Edward, my engine, are you okay?" he heard his driver's voice, and opened his eyes to look down on the worried faces of his driver and fireman. They seemed to be unharmed, but shock was evident in their expression and Charlie, his driver, climbed up on his footplate to wipe his face with a cloth.

"I'm fine." the tender loco whispered, "It's nothing."

"It seems to be a rather deep wound." the man muttered, "It's needs to be taken care of. And your smokebox..."

Edward took a deep breath, letting his frame tremble from the rush and his vision swim for a moment before he averted his gaze to Rachel and Daniel again, "Do you know... anything about the others?"

"No." Daniel answered, the siblings looked at each other. Rachel wore an anxious frown and bit her lips, Daniel continued, "We were just leaving Crovan's Gate when the sirens turned on."

A quiet sob came from Percy as both his crew and Rachel were trying to calm him down. It must have been the most horrifying experience he had ever lived through in his short life, but at least he was safe and uninjured - for Edward, that was enough at that moment. He did not feel the strenght to soothe him any more, unconsciousness was pulling on his mind and he now really considered letting himself pass out.

And that was just what he did.

* * *

"That was... the closest I ever got to a bomb. Percy, too." Edward murmured, his gaze still fixed on the blue waves of the Sudrian Sea, "I still can't thank the heavens enough that we managed to escape further harm. It took some time for me to realize just how close we came to death that day. It was... shattering. For poor Percy, it was even worse. He was just a child back then... it was just like with Thomas in the first world war."

He stopped for a moment, but went on quickly, "But luckily, no other engine was injured that day and we were there for each other. I think I would've gone crazy, especially after all the things that happened later, if my friends hadn't been there for me."

Anthony listened in astonished silence, he even forgot to speak for a moment, "Wow... that must have been dreadful. I can't even imagine what it must've been like."

"Hopefully, you will never know what it was like." Edward said with a wise little smile on his lips.

"And your face... I can't even see any scars!"

Edward chuckled, "Well... these teeth are not my original ones, and they managed to heal my face to the best of their abilities, though it can still be seen faintly if one looks close enough. And they couldn't do anything about my left eye... my vision is totally blurred there. But it's fine. I recieved all the help that could be given."

Anthony did not say anything, and it was the old engine again who eventually spoke, "I think it is time to finish for today. I see my driver and fireman coming."

The young man looked down, "Can't we stay a little more? I mean... your story-telling is really good and I don't have any more lessons today."

Edward laughed softly. "But I _do_ have work to do." he said, "Don't worry, we can continue on another day. Saturday, perhaps?"

"Erm, I'm... going back to Toryreck tomorrow, so I'll be home for the weekend."

"I see. Well, we _can_ meet even at Toryreck, we have a station there. Small and quiet and there's a valley close by. Perfect for story-telling, if you want."

"Alright, I'm in!"


End file.
